Slim Jim was a size five cowboy in a ten-gallon hat. At the age of twenty-one, he was small, short, and compact with a wide, square jaw and skin browned and toughened by the blazing Southwest sun. He spoke when necessary, his voice soft and pleasing, but mostly was silent as he herded cattle through the red rock and desert of New Mexico. At night, the chill, sage-scented air sent him to his bedroll laid out on the ahrd ground in front of his campfire. Coyote howls, cows bawling, and an occasional... read more
