I pick me up some ranch work fer the winter, in Montana, workin’ horses. Them bunkhouses is heated nice ‘n warm. There’s a fella hires me on ev’ry year, outside a Great Falls.  I stay holed up all winter there ‘n head out again come spring. Usually head up that-a-way in September, October, b’fore the snow flies. Get there b’fore the weather starts gittin’ bad. ‘Bout that time a year I’m ready ta settle inta some’um reg’lar ‘n eat three square a day ‘n git a place ta sleep that’s warm ‘n dry. Ya c’n git yerself in a bad way after six, eight months a steady trampin’.  Things happen ta ya out on the tramp that c’n leave ya wantin’ ta git in somewheres.

Last year I showed up at the ranch with nothin’ but the clothes on my back. Happened on account of a bunch a kids ganged up on me, rocked me ‘n took my gear. Happened in Denver, in the Denver ‘n Rio Grande yards. I was waitin’ on that Wyomin’ man. He comes outta them Burlin’ton yards ‘n takes it slow, ‘n once in a while he’ll stop along that piece a track runs by the jungles. Well, I was waitin’ there, jus’ finished cookin’ up ‘n was puttin’ my banjo back in my sack, ‘n this gang a kids come along ‘n starts ta rock me. Five er six of ‘em. They’s throwin’ rocks big as yer fist. I yelled fer ‘em ta stop, but that didn’t do no good. They kept on a-throwin’ ‘em. One a them rocks hit me in the back a the head, n’ knocked me down. I didn’t black out er nothin’, but I lost my footin’ ‘n went down. B’fore I knew it, them kids was all over me like a bunch a wild dogs.  They pinned me down ‘n took my watch right off my wrist ‘n emptied my pockets.  I was lyin’ belly-flat on the dirt, hopin’ they wouldn’t kill me. I laid there till they were gone.  Didn’t wanna git up fer fear they’d set ta rockin’ me again. They made off with ev’rythin’, all my gear, bedroll. Took it all. Only thing they left me was a crocker sack fulla food I’d scrounged from the grocery early that mornin’. I was beat up bad, so I set there ‘n waited.  Figgered the best thing ta do’d be ta git outta there ‘n up ta that ranch. I give up my gear fer gone.

The Wyomin’ man, he set it down right by the jungle. Good thing, ‘cause I was limpin’ from where one a the kids got me ‘n couldn’t a caught it on the fly ta save my life. I figgered on makin’ it straight through ta Great Falls. That Wyomin’s route’s a slow son of a bitch. Stops at ev’ry short-assed town along the way, settin’ off cars, pickin’ up cars. Does a lotta work. It’s a slow line, but I figgered I’d stay with it ‘n push straight through ta Great Falls. Took me three days, ‘n I stayed with it day ‘n night. I had that crocker sack full a food, but after a couple days most of it started gittin’ rotten ‘n leakin’ out on the floor, drawin’ flies. So I ate the spuds ‘n the fruit that wasn’t rotted bad ‘n flung the rest out the door.

I wasn’t feelin’ good, all banged up like I was ‘n eathin’ nothin’ but fruit. ‘N that fruit gimme the G.I.’s purty bad. Usually I’ll sit on my bedroll ta take some a the bounce outta the ride, give me a little cushion ‘gainst the floor. Well, there weren’t nothin’ ‘tween me ‘n the floor fer three days, ‘n some a that track gits purty bad ‘n sets the car ta bouncin’ like a son of a bitch. ‘N me with the G.I.’s. I had my dungarees ‘n jacket, ‘n that was it. No blanker er nothin’. Durin’ the day it was nice ‘n warm, ‘n I’d try ‘n sit in the door where the sun come in ‘n warm my bones. It got cool durin’ the nights, ‘n my jacket weren’t enough ta keep me warm. It don’t make fer good sleepin’ if ya don’t have yerself a bedroll er blanket er some’um. I rolled up in some a that brown packin’ paper, but that don’t do the job.  The cold creeps under there same as if ya didn’t have no bedroll at all.

I showed up at the ranch, draggin’ my ass. ‘N the boss, he sez, “What the hell happened to ya?”  I told him the story ‘bout the kids, ‘n right off he gives me a change a clothes. After I got cleaned up, I built a small fire out back a one a the sheds ‘n burned my dungarees. Them things was bad. The boss gimme some light work fer a few days, redoin’ harnesses, till I built up some strength ‘n could pull my weight ‘roun’ the place.

81.