A worn out old pickup turned off the highway and crossed the cattle guard into what looked to be a promising spread. The dust boiled up behind the rusty stock trailer bouncing along behind him on the ranch road as he headed inland toward what looked to be the Headquarters.
As his tires crunched the gravel and he rolled to a stop, the owner stepped out on the porch and waited as the slightly bent door of the old Chevrolet squeaked and popped as it was opened by the lanky visitor who hollered a "Howdy" as he slammed the door and headed toward the house. It seems he badly needed work and had his horse and tack but, needed room and board and a little something to tuck away for the future.
The rancher eyed him hopefully because help was hard to find and this old cowboy appeared to wear the positive signs of knowing his stuff, but there was always a catch so, he asked the question, "What kind of work are you looking for?"
The grizzled old puncher said, "I been horseback my whole life. I know cows better than I knew any of my three wives. Why, I've worked ranches all across the west and can give you plenty of references."
The rancher rubbed his chin and said, "I've got plenty of work and I can supply the room and board and a pretty good wage, but the work will be hard and the days long. We're spread out over 40 miles and I'm short handed. You can start in the morning. The bunkhouse is behind the barn and if you'll get your gear stowed we'll have supper here at the house around six. You'll find hay in the barn and you can put your horse in the corral out back."
With a grin and a hand shake the old cowboy felt his luck was finally changing. He pulled his rig around back, unloaded Old Red and hauled his entire life's accumulation of property into the bunkhouse.
Supper was beef and beans with a side of corn bread and the pleasant company of the rancher's wife. Conversation mostly consisted of the old cowboy sharing tales of his travels around the country and the spreads he had worked.
The next morning, long before daylight, breakfast of pancakes and eggs with bacon and hot coffee greeted the old cowboy who anxiously awaited the day's instructions which the rancher had carefully withheld the night before. As they walked outside the owner asked, "Do you have a good set of gloves?"
"Yep, I keep a pair of nice, soft calfskin gloves. I find they're the best for handling a rope or, a hot iron."
The rancher said, "You may want something a little tougher today. I've got several pair I can supply you. Here's the keys to that old pickup you saw parked in front of the barn. If you'll hook it up to that trailer load of cedar posts and meet me back here in about 30 minutes you can follow me up to the north place where I've got about 3 miles of fence that needs built."
The cowboy's face fell as he turned and headed to the barn. He looked in the back of the old truck and saw the rolls of "devil's rope" stacked there and said a few choice words to himself before pitching the keys in the seat of the old truck. He then headed to the bunkhouse, grabbed his gear, then loaded Old Red in the rusty trailer.
The rancher heard churning gravel as he came back out to the sight of the worn out old pickup headed back toward the highway, dust boiling. He shook his head and laughed to himself. "If that old cowboy knew we were just going to deliver that pickup and trailer to the fencing crew he would have stuck around. I guess he didn't need work that badly after all."
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