"Sure is!" they chorused.

"Do you know what the job pays?" asked Sundown.

"U-m-m-m, let's see. Don't know as I ever heard. But there'll be no
trouble about the pay. And you'll have things your own way, if you can
deliver the goods."

"That's right!" concurred a listener.

Sundown looked upon work of any kind too seriously to suspect that it
could be a subject for jest. He gazed hopefully at their hard, keen
faces. They all seemed interested, even eager that he should find
work. "Well, if it's a job I can hold down," he said, slowly, "I'll
start for her right now. I ain't afraid to work when I got to."

"That's the talk, pardner! Well, I'll tell you. You take that road at
the end of the station and follow her south right plumb over the hill.
Over the hill you'll see a ranch, 'way on. Keep right on fannin' it
and you'll come to a sign that reads 'American Hotel.' That's her.
Good water, fine scenery, quiet-like, and just the kind of a place them
tourists is always lookin' for. I stopped there many a time. So has
the rest of the boys."

"You was tellin' me it was select-like--" ventured Sundown.

The men roared. Even Sundown's informant relaxed and grinned. But he
became grave again, flicked the ashes from his cigar and waved his
hand. "It's this way, pardner. That there hotel is run on the