across the bar, and smiled. "So you don't like wire, sheep, or nesters," he remarked.
Mr. Somes looked up, in surprise, forgetting that he held a lighted match between thumb and finger. "Like 'em! Huh, I reckon not. I 'm lookin' for a job because of wire. H—l!" he exclaimed, dropping the match, and rubbing his finger. "That 's twice I did that fool thing in a week," he remarked, in apology and self-condemnation, and struck another match.
"I was foreman of my ranch for nigh onto ten years. It was a good ranch, an' I was satisfied till last year, when they made me put up a windmill that did n't mill, but screeched awful. I stood for that because I could get away from it in th' daytime.
"But this year! One day, not very long ago, I got a letter from th' owners, an' it says for me to build a wire fence around our range. It went on to say that there was two carloads of barb' wire at Mesquite. We was to tote that wire home, an' start in. If two carloads was n't enough, they 'd send us more. We had one
