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38 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

“I’m very worried about Jim. He said he wanted to find your ranch and stay awhile and come

back to help his father and I through the winter.” I read on. “I know Jim is a vagabond and

loves to roam but when he gives his word, you can count on him. Please write back soon and tell

me what you know about this matter.”

I sat down and wrote her a small note and told her that he stayed here and helped me for a while

and left quite a while back. I didn’t have any idea where he went after he left here but not to

think the worst, because as she stated, Jim was a vagabond and loved to go places.

The next morning, Billy Watkins came by and looked at the horses that I told him I might

sell. Juan Torres was nowhere to be seen.

“I think you’ll get along with that brown gelding and the price ain’t that bad.” I said.

“How much not that bad?” He asked.

“I’d take $50.00 and you can buy the fillies for $35.00 each,” I told him.

“My God! There ain’t no unbroke horses worth that kind of money,” he said.

“Well Billy,” I said, “I’m sorry you think that’s high but that’s the price. Take it or leave it.

There are some cheaper horses to be had but not on Tamale Ridge.”

“I guess I wasted a trip out here then,” he said as he got on his horse and rode out of the yard.

I stuck my hand out to shake hands showing no hard feelings but he didn’t see it or at least acted

like he didn’t see it. As soon as he dissappeared from sight Juan Torres came out of the out

house carring a rifle.

“I no like that muchacho.” Juan said, “I no want him see Juan.”

“He thought my horses were priced too high,” I said.

“He no look for Caballo. He look for trouble,” Juan stated flatly.

“I don’t know why he couldn’t have turned out like his daddy,” I said to Juan.

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