THE BRONC PEELER

the old man sat in the scant shade of his old delapidated barn. in his hands he had a leather headstal from a bridle. he was useing some neatsfoot oil to soften it. every so often he would spit a stream of tobaco juice from his mouth. looking up in the distance he could see a lone horseman comming his way. the old man pushed his soiled silver belly hat to the back of his head as he watched rider approach. the old mans hands were knarled and callused. his hair was gray, but the blue eyes in his wrinkled face were sharp and clear. the rider came closer. the old man laid the headstal aside and slowley stood up and reached for the hand carvd cane at his side. as he straightened to his full height bones popped and saped.. the old man twisted his head from one side to the other, the vertabrae in his neck popped. he grunted and hobbled out into the yard to meet the rider. the choclat brown horse marched into the yard with the man on his back looking like he was spiked to his back. the rider lifted the reins and stopped the horse back a respectable distance. his black hat had lost its shape and was crammed down on the riders head. his blond hair stuck out from around the sweat band. his eyes were a pale gray and peered down at the old man. his chaps were worn almost to the point of being hens skin thin. his saddle had numerous patches. his feet stuck through the ox bow stirrups up against the heel of his boots the old man looked him over with a appraiseing eye then raised his head and asked" what can i do for you ?" the rider had a scowel on his face but said" i was told in town you needed a bronc peeler. is that right?" " yes , ime always needing one. none seem to last very long here. either quit or end up in the hospital. you looking for work as a peeler?"the old man didnt flinch as he explained . " i need a job, pretty bad. ill give your ponys a whirl."the rider was determined. " i got a horse camp about 5 miles yonder. theres 40 broncs there everywhere from 3 to 6 their mothers run in the same country. they are spoiled pretty bad, been rode at by a number of so called bronc peelers. are you a so called bronc man?"the sarcasom dripped from the old mans lips along with the tobacco juice he spit. " i wont make no promises but ill do the best i can. you dont need to pay me until you see what i can do. if you dont like it show me the road." the rider didnt back a inch. the old man had taken a likeing to this rider but he wouldnt show it."put you horse in the barn. theres a bunk house stock with chuck. slow time of year so we dont have a cook. spend the night and my pardner will take you to the camp in the morning. as you can see i dont ride much any more."the old man was leaning on the cane. as the rider turned his horse to the corral the old man asked" what name do i put on the payroll?" " billy park. who am i working for?" the rider gave as good as he got. " ime jim steel. and because ime crippled dont think........" " i dont take advantage of anyone cripple or not. you need me ill be in the bunk house."billy rode on to the corral and started unsaddling his horse.