Gil Mead was a
wealthy ranchman, who lived about ten miles from us. He owned the
largest herd of cattle on the plains. They were branded with the vowels
of his name. E.A., which could be recognized anywhere. He always shipped
his cattle East to his brother in Chicago. I feared the man. He was tall
and gaunt, with deep-set black eyes and low forehead. His home was
unhappy; his wife cross and ugly, and his children wild and unruly. This
made him more than commonly disagreeable.
I think it was in the fall of '74 that Harry White brought the big load
of hides to Jack. Both were much pleased at the bargain they made. Harry
gave glowing accounts of a new customer--a ranchman from Chicago, who
had taken up an abandoned homestead. He had purchased many cattle from
his cousin, Gil Mead, and hoped to rival him in the number and quality
of his herd. Jack packed the hides away to keep till December, when we
expected the dealer.
One afternoon, not long after this, Gil Mead rode up to the house,
looking very agreeable and pleasant. A couple of strangers, also
ranchmen, were with him. They wanted to look at the hides, one of the
men being a trader, Gil said.
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