I had not; and forthwith Lin poured out to me the pent-up complaints and
sociability with which he was bursting. The foreman had sent him over
here with a sackful of letters for the post, and to bring back the week's
mail for the ranch. A day was gone now, and nothing for a man to do but
sit and sit. Tommy was overdue fifteen hours. Well, you could have
endured that, but the neighbors had all locked their cabins and gone to
Buffalo. It was circus week in Buffalo. Had I ever considered the money
there must be in the circus business? Tommy had taken the outgoing
letters early yesterday. Nobody had kept him waiting. By all rules he
should have been back again last night. Maybe the stage was late reaching
Powder River, and Tommy had had to lay over for it. Well, that would
justify him. Far more likely he had gone to the circus himself and taken
the mail with him. Tommy was no type of man for postmaster. Except
drawing the allowance his mother in the East gave him first of every
month, he had never shown punctuality that Lin could remember. Never had
any second thoughts, and awful few first ones. Told bigger lies than a
small man ought, also.

"Has successes, though," said I, wickedly.

"Huh!" went on Mr. McLean. "Successes! One ice-cream-soda success. And
she"--Lin's still wounded male pride made him plaintive--"why, even that
girl quit him, once she got the chance to appreciate how insignificant he
was as compared with the size of his words. No, sir. Not one of 'em
retains interest in Tommy."

Lin was unsaddling and looking after my horse, just because he was glad
to see me. Since our first acquaintance, that memorable summer of
Pitchstone Canyon when he had taken such good care of me and such bad care
of himself, I had learned pretty well about horses and camp craft in