creek, and sat looking down upon him and his camp.{50}

{50}

CHAPTER VII THE STRANGER’S QUEST

“What’s yer name? Whar ye from? What’re you a-doin’ here?”

THE Lizard’s preliminary inspection of the stranger and his camp might or might not have been prompted by a habit of caution. When it was finished he called a loose-mouthed “Howdy” and, without waiting for a response to his greeting, spurred his mount, slipping and sliding with rolling stones and a cloud of dust, down to the edge of the creek.

T

Dismounting and throwing the bridle rein over his horse’s head, he slouched forward—a vapid grin on his sallow, weasel-like face.

“I seed yer smoke an’ ’lowed as how I’d drop along an’ take a look at who’s here; bein’ as I war aimin’ t’ ride t’ Oracle sometime t’-day anyhow. Not as I’ve got anythin’ perticler t’ go thar fer nuther, ’cept t’ jist set in front of th’ store a spell an’ gas with th’ fellers. Thar’s allus a bunch hangin’ ’round of a Sunday.”

He looked curiously at the stranger’s outfit and, ignoring the fact that the camper had not spoken, seated himself with the air of one taking his welcome for granted.{51}

{51}

The stranger smiled. The fear that had so shaken him a few moments before was gone, and there was relief in his voice as he bade his visitor a quite unnecessary welcome.

“Ye’r a-footin’ hit, be ye?” the Lizard continued with garrulous ease. “Wal, that’s one way of goin’; but I’ll take a good hoss fer mine. A feller’ll jist naterally wear out quick ernough no matter how keerful he’d be. Never ’lowed I had ary call t’ take an’ plumb walk myse’f t’ death on purpose. Them’s good blankets you’ve got thar. Need ’em, too, these nights, if ’tis spring. That thar coffeepot ain’t no ’count, though—not fer me, that is—wouldn’t hold half what I’d take three times a day, reg’lar.” He laughed loudly as if a good joke were hidden somewhere in his remarks if only the other were clever enough to find it.

“You live in this neighborhood, do you?” the stranger asked.

“What, me? Oh shore. My name’s Bill Janson—live down th’ cañon a piece, jist below whar th’ road comes in. Paw an’ maw an’ me live thar t’gether. We drifted in from Arkansaw eight year ago come this fall. What’s 

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