CHAPTER VI: CULTUS MEETS THE FOLKSCultus Collins jogged on to Medicine Tree, studying the country as he went along, rather amused at being mistaken for a sheepman, but not blaming them. He had learned enough to know that Painted Valley feared the sheep, and he didn’t blame them for that. Cultus Collins was heart and soul for the cattle interests. He stabled his roan, secured a room at the little adobe hotel, where he performed his weekly shaving duties before sallying forth to see the little town. The bathing facilities at the Medicine Tree hotel were nil.
Cultus naturally gravitated to the War Dance Saloon. Business was not very brisk at this time in the afternoon. A couple of girls were practising a dance step on the little platform, while a third pounded a few notes from the out-of-tun
