“Some kids at school. . . they said you never rode the rodeo.”
“They’d be right, son. I never did. Good thing, too. Most of them old boys are all crippled up at my age.”
“But they also said you was only a fence rider at the Double-R-Bar ranch.”
“That’s true enough, I reckon.”
“That’s just the way it was, son. I did what I could to make a living in them days.”
“So you wasn’t a real cowboy?”
“We was all cowboys, son. We just had different jobs, I guess.”
The boy’s face fell.