Robert's dad, one Jackson Carr, is going to try freighting.

He's camped over the ridge at Hospital Springs, letting his horses feed up and get some meat on their bones.
Here! Robert E.Lee, drop that club or I'll put the dingbats on you instanter! Don't you pound that pony! I saw you yesterday racing the streets with the throat-latch of your bridle unbuckled.

Serves you right!" Robert E.Lee reluctantly abandoned the sotol stalk he had been breaking to a length suitable for admonitory purposes.
"All right! But I'll fix him yet--see if I don't! He's got to pack me back up that hill after my hat.

Gimme a knife, so's I can cut a saddle string and mend this bridle." These remarks are expurgated.
He mended the bridle; he loosened the cinches and set the saddle back.
Stan, dismounting, made a discovery.
"I've lost a spur.

Thought something felt funny.