During WW II , as the USA got itself ready to push the war in the Pacific, good-paying defense jobs opened up in the Oregon and California ship-building plants. My mother left for the coast, and I found myself boarded out in Red Lodge, Montana. One summer I ended up on Red Kenevan’s ranch on the down slope from Mt. Maurice. 

Red’s ranch was mostly sage brush and rocks, but there was a bit of bottom land along a creek that grew pretty good hay. During haying, Red brought on hired hands to do the heavy work (Chuck, the other boarder, and I were pretty useless as help).

Chuck and I were loafing about the front steps of the house waiting for breakfast, when I spotted Jake and Ken, the hired hands, leaning on the pole fence and looking into the coral. I opted that they were talking about something, but Chuck said “no, they ain’t.” Seemed like we always took opposite sides of things. In the end, we decided to sneak up on the men and listen in. 

We heard Ken, the taller of the two say: “Warm, ain’t it?”
After a bit Jake said, “Yep.”
“Been nice talking to ya,” Ken said as he turned to go back to the house.
“You bet,” added Jake. 
“Hey, what’s you kids doin’ here? Skat, both a’ you.”, Jake shouted at us. 

Chuck and I ran off to continue our argument. About then Mary rang the bell to call us for breakfast, and we never did find out if they were talking about something.

Well that’s pretty much what conversation was that summer on ranch.

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