“Do you remember,” said Babe, “when I dissolved with the ‘Ohio’ outfit and bought in with the ‘LX’ people?”

“When you what?” repeated Edwards.

“Well, then, when I was discharged by the ‘Ohio’s’ and got a job ploughing fire-guards with the ‘LX’s.’  Is that plain enough for your conception?  I learned a lesson then that has served me since to good advantage.  Don’t hesitate to ask for the best job on the works, for if you don’t you’ll see some one get it that isn’t as well qualified to fill it as you are.  So if you happen to be in St. Louis, call around and see me at the Panhandle headquarters.  Don’t send in any card by a nigger; walk right in.  I might give you some other pointers, but you couldn’t appreciate them.  You’ll more than likely be driving a chuck-wagon in a few years.”

These old cronies from boyhood sparred along in give-and-take repartee for some time, finally drifting back to boyhood days, while the harshness that pervaded their conversation before became mild and genial.

“Have you ever been back in old San Saba since we left?” inquired Edwards after a long meditative silence.

“Oh, yes, I spent a winter back there two years ago, though it was hard lines to enjoy yourself.  I managed to romance about for two or three months, sowing turnip seed and teaching dancing-school.  The girls that you and I knew are nearly all married.”

“What ever became of the O’Shea girls?” asked Edwards.  “You know that I was high card once with the eldest.”

“You’d better comfort yourself with the thought,” answered Babe, “for you couldn’t play third fiddle in her string now.  You remember old Dennis O’Shea was land-poor all his life.  Well, in the land and cattle boom a few years ago he was picked up and set on a pedestal.  It’s wonderful what money can do!  The old man was just common bog Irish all his life, until a cattle syndicate bought his lands and cattle for twice what they were worth.  Then he blossomed into a capitalist.  He always was a trifle hide-bound.  Get all you can and can all you get, took precedence and became the first law with your papa-in-law.  The old man used to say that the prettiest sight he ever saw was the smoke arising from a ‘Snake’ branding-iron.  They moved to town, and have been to Europe since they left the ranch.  Jed Lynch, you know, was smitten on the youngest girl.  Well, he had the nerve to call on them after their return from Europe.  He says that they live in a big house, their name’s on the door, and you have to ring a bell, and then a nigger meets you.  It must make a man feel awkward to live around a wagon all his days, and then suddenly change to style and put on a heap of dog.  Jed says the red-headed girl, the middle one, married some fellow, and they live with the old folks.  He says the other girls treated him nicely, but the old lady, she has got it bad.  He says that she just languishes on a sofa, cuts into the conversation now and then, and simply swells up.  She don’t let the old man come into the parlor at all.  Jed says that when the girls were describing their trip through Europe, one of them happened to mention Rome, when the old lady interrupted:  ’Rome?  Rome?  Let me see, I’ve forgotten, girls.  Where is Rome?’