they?" he replied, jerking a
monstrous thumb over his shoulder toward a door.

I knew the words half-hitch had something to do with a lasso, and I was
rather taken back by the hotel proprietor's remark. The dining-room was
more attractive than anything I had yet seen about the place: the linen
was clean, and the ham and eggs and coffee that were being served to
several rugged men gave forth a savory odor. But either the waiter was
blind or he could not bear, for he paid not the slightest attention to
me. I waited, while trying to figure out the situation. Something was
wrong, and, whatever it was, I guessed that it must be with me. After
about an hour I got my breakfast. Then I went into the office, intending
to be brisk, businesslike, and careful about asking questions.

"I'd like to pay my bill, and also for a little damage," I said, telling
what had happened.

"Somebody'll kill thet Greaser yet," was all the comment the man made.

I went outside, not knowing whether to be angry or amused with these
queer people. In the broad light of day Holston looked as bad as it
had made me feel by night. All I could see were the station and
freight-sheds, several stores with high, wide signs, glaringly painted,
and a long block of saloons. When I had turned a street corner,
however, a number of stores came into view with some three-storied brick
buildings, and, farther out, many frame houses.

Moreover, this street led my eye to great snowcapped mountains, and I
stopped short in my tracks, for I realized they were the Arizona peaks.
Up the swelling slopes swept a black fringe that I knew to be timber.
The mountains appeared to be close, but I knew that even the foot-bills
were miles away. Penetier, I remembered from one of Dick's letters, was
on the extreme northern slope, and it must be anywhere from forty to
sixty miles off. The sharp, white peaks glistened in the morning sun;
the air had a cool touch of snow and a tang of pine. I drew in a full
breath, with a sense on being among the pines.

Now I must buy my outfit and take the trail for Penetier. This I
resolved to do with as few questions as possible. I never before was
troubled by sensitiveness, but the fact had dawned upon me that I did
not like being taken for a tenderfoot. So, with this in mind, I entered
a general merchandise store.

It was very large, and full of hardware, harness, saddles,
blankets--everything that cowboys and ranchmen use. Several men, two
i