aped across the four startled backs of his horses.

Billy turned to the reinspection of his guest, and met a deprecating
smile.

"Can I get a room here fer to-night?" he inquired in a high, piping
voice.

"You kin," said Billy, shortly, and began to howl for Charley.

That patriarch appeared around the corner, as did likewise the cook, a
black-eyed, red-cheeked creature, afterward counted by Billy as one of
his eight matrimonial ventures.

"Snake this stranger's war-bag into th' shack," commanded Billy, "and,
Nell, jest nat'rally rustle a few grub."

The stranger picked up a small hand-satchel and followed Charley into
the building. When, a little later, he reappeared for supper, he carried
the hand-bag with him, and placed it under the bench which flanked the
table. Afterward he deposited it near his hand while enjoying a pipe
outside. Naturally, all this did not escape Billy.

"Stranger," said he, "yo' seems mighty wedded to that thar satchel."

"Yes, sir," piped the stranger. Billy snorted at the title. "I has some
personal belongin's which is valuable to me." He opened the bag and
produced a cheap portrait of a rather cheap-looking woman. "My mother
that was," said he.

Billy snorted again and went inside. He hated sentiment of all kinds.

The two men sat opposite each other and ate supper, which was served by
the red-cheeked girl. The stranger kept his eyes on his plate while she
was in the room. He perched on the edge of the bench with his feet
tucked under him and resting on the toes. When she approached, the
muscles of his shoulders and upper arms grew rigid with embarrassment,
causing strange awkward movements of the hands. He answered in
monosyllables.

Billy ate expansively and earnestly. Toward the close of the meal
Charley slipped into place beside him. Charley was out of humour, and
found the meat cold.

"Damn yore soul, Nell," he cried, "this yere ain't fitten fer a _hog_ to
eat!"

The girl did not mind; nor did Billy. It was the country's mode of
speech. The stranger dropped his knife.

"I don't wonder you don't like it, then," said he, with a funny little
blaze of anger.

"Meanin' what?" shouted Charley, threateningly.

"You sure mustn't speak to a lady that way," replied the stranger,
firmly, in his little piping voice.

Billy caught the point and exploded in a mighty guffaw.

"Bully fer you!" he cried, slapping his knee; "struck pyrites (he
pronounced it pie-rights) fer shore t