about two o'clock
When I returned to Honeyman , and we had exchanged horses and were shifting our saddles , I complimented him on the long throw he had made in catching the brown , and incidentally mentioned that I had read of vaqueros in California who used a sixty-five foot lariat . `` Hell , '' said Billy , in ridicule of the idea , `` there was n't a man ever born who could throw a sixty-five foot rope its full length -- without he threw it down a well . '' The sun was straight overhead when we started back to overtake the herd . We struck into a little better than a five-mile gait on the return trip , and about two o'clock sighted a band of saddle horses and a wagon camped perhaps a mile forward and to the side of the trail . On coming near enough , we saw at a glance it was a cow outfit , and after driving our loose horses a good push beyond their camp , turned and rode back to their wagon . `` We 'll give them a chance to ask us to eat , '' said Billy to me , `` and if they do n't , why , they 'll miss a hell of a good chance to entertain hungry men . '' But the foreman with the stranger wagon proved to be a Bee County Texan , and our doubts did him an injustice , for , although dinner was over , he invited us to dismount and ordered his cook to set out something to eat .