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“Exactly the same” Quint wasn’t surprised by that, but he wasn’t pleased either as he returned the tally book and pencil to his pocket

“I didn’t figure we’d ht have” Empty rested both hands on the saddle horn, one on top of the other, and slanted a knowing look at Quint “I told you to expect it”

“To be honest, Eht smile to curve his mouth, careful not to let it be too wide and open the cut inside the corner of his ”

Ee don’t lance over the ot to adured he’d sic his boys on you so quick”

“It wasin there for a beer” But it was Dallas that Quint was thinking about, just as he had countless times in the last two days

By now she would have heard froe, either directly or indirectly Quint could only hope that a warning was all she received As ht, he knew he had to keep his distance from her

“Best do your drinking here at the Cee Bar from now on—and damned little of it,” Empty advised

“I’ve never beenhis horse toward the ranch yard

E parallel with hi eye over the pasture condition “Good thing you got hay co pretty thin”

“I noticed”

“It could be worse, though,” Empty continued “Old Ellis Baxter used to own this section He was one of those progressive kind, always hot to do what soht” Empty punctuated the statement with a derisive snort “It wouldn’t have surprised overnment Love Grass It’s the most worthless stuff ever put on earth Cattle won’t eat it But that darasses As far as I’ but a fire hazard”

As always, Quint listened when the retired rancher opined on a subject The old man reminded him of the veteran hands at the Triple C, whose storehouse of knowledge and experience they had always been ready to share with hiht him a healthy respect for the old ways, which often turned out to be the best ways

“Thought I’d tackle that mesquite in the south pasture tomorrow,” Empty remarked “You turn your back on that stuff and before you know it, it’s taken over the whole pasture Then you gotta play brush-popper to get the cattle out of it, and I’h a bunch of scrub You only need to drive to the coastal plains or over in west Texas to see what a plague mesquite’s become An old-tirass Now it’s damned near a forest of mesquite”

“I heard” In his rass ocean that covered the Triple C Ranch in Montana The ile of the cell phone in his jacket pocket Retrieving it, he flipped it open “Cee Bar”

His aunt’s familiar voice responded with sharp clarity, “Hello, Quint It’s Jessy”