"I hate to bother you with this, and I don't want you to think I have come whining for sympathy," he said, after a minute of moody silence. "But seeing they were not branded yet--with our brand--I thought perhaps you had run across them and paid no attention, thinking they belonged to Seabeck."
Billy Louise smiled a little to herself. If he had not been quite so "green at the ranch game," he would have mentioned brands at first, as the most important point, instead of tacking on the information casually after ten minutes of other less vital details.
"Were they vented?" she asked, suppressing the smile so that it was merely a twitch of the lips which might mean anything.
"I--yes, I think they were. That's what you call it when the former owner puts his brand in a different place to show that his ownership has ceased, isn't it? Seabeck puts his brand upside down--"
"I know Seabeck's vent," Billy Louise cut in. There was no need of letting such a fine fellow display more ignorance on the subject. "And I should have noticed it if I had seen four calves vented fresh and not rebranded. Why in the world didn't you stick your brand on at the same time?" Billy Louise was losing patience with his greenness.
"I didn't have my branding iron with me," Charlie answered humbly. "I have done that before, when I bought those other cows and calves. I--"
"You'd better pack your iron, next time," she retorted. "If you can't get a little bunch of calves ten miles without losing them--"
"But you must understand, I did! I took them home and turned them into the Cove. I know--I'm an awful chump at this. There are things that I can do," he declared whimsically, "or I should want to kick myself to death. I can ladle out money the year round through a bank wicket and not be shy a cent at the end of the year. And I can strike out man after man--when I'm in good form; why, I've pitched whole games and never walked a man! And I can--but what's the use? I can't drive the cows up from pasture, it seems, without losing all the milk. And I can make a little, gray-eyed girl out here in the sagebrush look upon me with pitying contempt for my asinine ignorance. Hang it, why does a fellow have to learn fresh lessons for everything he undertakes? Why can't there be a universal course that fits one for every trade?"
"There is," said Billy Louise dryly. "You take that in the School of Experience, don't you?"