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Me and Wintergreen figgers we'll clean up teachin' these Eastern dudes how to be cowpokes in ten easy lessons. Then we meet up with Omaha!

Easy Money

By Ben Frank

MONEY BEING something we can always use here on the WL range, it is my old saddle-mate and partner, Wintergreen Wilson, who thinks up the idea of us learning dudes to be cowboys by a correspondence course. So we raise all the cash we can and advertise in the big city Sunday papers. HOW TO BE A COWBOY IN TEN EASY LESSONS BY MAIL, the ads say. SEND TEN DOLLARS CASH, PRONTO!

Wednesday morning at the breakfast table, Wintergreen sops up the last of his molasses with a biscuit and says, "Lywell, leave us up and be going to pick up the answers to our ads."

Looking, as usual, like he is about to fall apart, he ambles from our ranch house, which also looks like it will fall apart; and I follow. We rope our broncs and begin to saddle. "Lywell," he says, "when yuh stop to think how many dudes there is who wish to become cowboys at ten smackers a head?"

"Easy money," I say, climbing aboard my cayuse.

"Wait," he says. "I forgot somethin' to get our mail in."

He bow-legs it into the house and returns with an empty flour sack. "This oughta hold most of it," he says.

He swings into the saddle, and we head along the trail for Putantake at a easy lope. "Lywell," he says, smiling happy, "only a man with brains would have thunk up this easy way to get rich an'?oh, oh, ain't that Orv an' Neff Paschal cuttin' our trail?"

"Yes," I say, uneasy, for the Paschal brothers are two gents who own the Double-X and go around well-armed and with chips on their shoulders. "But who is the third gent?"

Puzzled, Wintergreen shakes his head, almost losing his hat, which is so big it would fall down over his face if his ears did not stick out like handles on a beer mug.

Presently the Double-X outfit angles up to us. "Hello, boys," Orv says, squinting at us under shaggy red eyebrows. "Goin' places, or travelin'?"

"Going to town," Wintergreen says polite.

"What yuh doin' with that flour sack?" Neff asks curious.

"It's to put our mail in," Wintergreen replies.

"Mail?" the black-haired, beady-eyed stranger says. "You hombres must have a lot of girls writin' you if?"

"We are not getting letters from no girls," Wintergreen says dignified. "Lywell and me are learning people to be cowboys by mail, and?"

"By mail! How'n thunder can yuh learn 'em by?"

"Curly," Orv says ...

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