work, as you may say--I--I never dreamed that there _were_ men like that
in these days."

The cowboy shifted his weight uneasily in the saddle, while he regarded
the man on the ground curiously. "She was sure a humdinger of a
celebration," he admitted, "but as for the show part I've seen things
happen when nobody was thinking anything about it that would make those
stunts at Prescott look funny. The horse racing was pretty good,
though," he finished, with suggestive emphasis.

The other did not miss the point of the suggestion. "I didn't bet on
anything," he laughed.

"It's funny nobody picked you up on the road out here," the cowboy next
offered pointedly. "The folks started home early this morning--and Jim
Reid and his family passed me about an hour ago--they were in an
automobile. The Simmons stage must have caught up with you somewhere."

The stranger's face flushed, and he seemed trying to find some answer.

The cowboy watched him curiously; then in a musing tone added the
suggestion, "Some lonesome up here on foot."

"But there are times, you know," returned the other desperately, "when a
man prefers to be alone."

The cowboy straightened in his saddle and lifted his reins. "Thanks," he
said dryly, "I reckon I'd better be moving."

But the other spoke quickly. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Acton, I did not