The Cowboy

There's a saying in the West that a cowboy is a man with guts and a horse. This is the story of one. His name was Slim. Frontier, gentlemen! Herewith an Englishman's account of life and death in the West.

As a reporter for the London Times, he writes his colorful and unusual stories. But as a man with a gun, he lives and becomes a part of the violent years and the new territories. Now starring John Tainer, this is the story of J.B. Kendall, frontier gentleman.

I had bought a horse in Cheyenne and was riding to Laramie in Wyoming territory. I wanted a chance to really look at this grazing country and the thousands of heads of cattle dotting its plains.

I rode north of the railroad tracks until they telegraphed poles lining it were lost in a gusty haze. When I saw clouds heavy and bronze over the distant mountains, it was during the afternoon that I came upon the cowboy, a lean man of about thirty with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He was examining the right foreleg of his horse and he looked up as I approached.

Hello! Howdy! You need any help? A full horse stepped in a gopher hole. Don't seem to be no spring, huh? Fine looking animal. He ain't a bad old buzzard head. Hey, you English? Yes. You're a ranch man?

No, no. A newspaper correspondent. Oh, maybe if you're a ranch man, you'd be looking for a hand. I'm sorry. You don't make no never mind. I'm shassain over the Laramie. The girl get me a job, one of them new layouts.

So here, tell's open up. I'm bound for Laramie myself. Mind if I ride with you? ride with you. Take it as real friendly. We did you a moon on son of a gun of steel. You think we'll have rain?