"I'd be glad to have you do that, Mr. Corbley," Hugh hastened to
tell him.

"Then let's walk back a bit. I believe we can find a nice convenient
log close to the road, where we'll take things easy while I spin my
little yarn. To tell you the truth, Hugh Morgan, I've taken a
great liking to you and that chum, Thad. I've been sizing the pair
of you up ever since I first ran across you; and say, it's given me
a heap of joy to see how solicitous you both were about my hanging
out at Sister Matilda's ranch, and eating her hard-earned bread.
You boys have got the right kind of stuff in you, that's certain.
Why, there were times when I was almost afraid that impulsive chum
of yours would be wanting to jump on me, and try by main force
to chase me off the ground."

"We did make one try that way, as of course you know, sir," ventured
Hugh.

"Meaning that article in the _Weekly Courier_ about the terrible
marshal from Texas, Hastings by name," laughed the other. "I've
had lots of fun over that racket, son, I give you my word I have.
Of course there's a sheriff down there capable of doing all those
stunts your friend on the paper wrote up; but his name chances to
be Rawlings and not Hastings. I must have got things a bit mixed
when I told you about how he took bad men into camp, and all that.
But here's the log, and we can take things easy while I confess how
I'm the most tremendous impostor going."

Hugh seemed eager to hear about it, nor was he apparently at all afraid.