"There was a little man in a white shirt and brown overalls and a pink
handkerchief around his neck rolling cigarettes under a tree in front
of the door.

"'Greetings,' says I. 'Any refreshment, welcome, emoluments, or even
work for a comparative stranger?'

"'Oh, come in,' says he, in a refined tone. 'Sit down on that stool,
please. I didn't hear your horse coming.'

"'He isn't near enough yet,' says I. 'I walked. I don't want to be
a burden, but I wonder if you have three or four gallons of water
handy.'

"'You do look pretty dusty,' says he; 'but our bathing arrangements--'

"'It's a drink I want,' says I. 'Never mind the dust that's on the
outside.'

"He gets me a dipper of water out of a red jar hanging up, and then
goes on:

"'Do you want work?'

"'For a time,' says I. 'This is a rather quiet section of the country,
isn't it?'

"'It is,' says he. 'Sometimes--so I have been told--one sees no human
being pass for weeks at a time. I've been here only a month. I bought
the ranch from an old settler who wanted to move farther west.'