What Do You Think Of The Kid, Curley?

“What do you think of the kid, Curly?” The two men were sitting at a rickety wooden table in the bunkhouse. The wood stove gave off an insufficient amount of heat for the still chilly Spring. “I think he's a cocky son of of a buck, but he can ride; that's for damn sure. Did you see how he topped off that roan horse,” Dakota said. “Stuck it on him like patting for a dance.” Old man Stegner won the roan in a poker game at the saloon in town. He was a big, good looking rawboned thing. A proud cut gelding standing chin high to a tall man and old man Stegner didn't realize until he got the horse to the ranch that the hands at the Rafter C were laughing all the way back to their spread. The old man's son, Billy, a good
“That damn kid just rode that ole roan to a standstill. Never seen nothing like it. That cayuse was jumping as high as the fence and the kid nary missed a lick.” “I just had a bad day is all. Can happen to anyone. Ain't a horse cain't be rode or a cowboy cain't be throwed. That's what they say.” “Ya Slim,” said Dakota, ”but it sure doesn't look like that horse got rode and it sure looks like you got throwed.” Curly and Dakota slapped their knees in laughter. Slim lie back down in the bunk with a grunt of pain and pulled the robe over his head. The door burst open with a gust of cold wind and in walked Stinky. “Hey Stink, whyn't you never take a bath?” “I do take me a bath. Hell, I just had me a hot bubble bath down at the Nugget.” “And when the hell was that Stinky, you smell like that polecat got trapped in the barn; scared the hell out of the horses and stunk the place up for months.” “I done had me a bath just a tad back. It was right after Nevada stepped in that bear trap up on the North fork” “Hell, Stinky, that was last fall. Sometime in October.” “It was November” Stinky