Luck to the darkly handsome face of the Native Son. "Sounds most as
exciting as holding down a homestead, anyway. Don't you think so, Mig?
And say! It's sure a pity we can't put off some things in real life till
we get all set and ready to handle 'em!"

"That's right." Luck's face sobered as the idea caught his imagination.
"That's dead right; how well I know it!"

Andy smoked and swung his feet and regarded Luck with interest. "It's
against my religious principles to go poking my nose into the other
fellow's business," he said after a minute, "but I'm wondering if there's
anything in this God-forsaken country to bring a fellow like you here
deliberate. I'm wondering if you meant to stop, or if you just leaned too
far out the car window on your way through town."

For a half minute Luck looked up at him. He had expected a preparatory
winning of the confidence of the men whom he sought. He had planned to
lead up gradually to his mission, in case he found his men. But in that
half minute he threw aside his plan as a weak, puerile wasting of time,
and he answered Andy Green truthfully.

"No, I didn't fall off the train," he drawled. "I just grabbed my grip
and beat it when they told me where I was. I'm out on a still hunt for
some real boys. Some that can ride and shoot and that know cow-science so
well they don't have to glad up in cowboy clothes and tie red bandanna
bibs on to make folks think they're range broke."

"And yet you're wasting time in this tame little granger wart on the
map!"