CHAPTER II
QUONG LI
It took a good twelve hours to drive cattle from the Circle S to the loading chute at Metzal for they had to be started in as perfect condition as was possible after the long trip. The start was made long before sun-up and frequent halts taken for water and intermittent grazing. Sheridan, Jackson and two cowboys went with them, one of the punchers slated to go on to the Junction with the main-line at Pioche and see them properly transferred.
So it was mid-afternoon before the herd arrived at the loading chute, a hundred yards from the little depot, and Sheridan rode ahead to see the agent about his cars. Metzal boasted one almost obsolete and wheezy engine for shunting purposes, relegated to the branch line for cattle purposes and its engineer and firemen were of the same character as their locomotive. The station agent was generally sleepy, infected with a Mexican manana that prevailed more or less in Metzal. There were two types of citizens in and about Chico Mesa, those who rose early, when the air was cool and sweet and bracing, and those who crawled out when the sun was high and the air within doors and out oppressive. There were, in effect, the hustlers and
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