"Thank you," said he. "Sing!" he roared, and then to the Chinaman who
showed up in a nervous hover: "Give this lady grub, savvy? If you'll go
with him, ma'am, he'll get you up something. Then we'd like to see you."

"I can perfectly well wait----" she began.

"I'd rather not, ma'am," said Buck with such grave finality that she
merely bowed and followed the cook.




CHAPTER XV


They had no tender feelings about me, however. Nobody cared whether I
ever ate or not. I was led into the little ranch office and catechized
to a fare-ye-well. They sat and roosted and squatted about, emitting
solemn puffs of smoke and speaking never a word; and the sun went down
in shafts of light through the murk, and the old shadows of former days
crept from the corners. When I had finished my story it was dusk.

And on the heels of my recital came the sound of hoofs in a hurry; and
presently loomed in the doorway the gigantic figure of Tom Thorne, the
sheriff. He peered, seeing nothing through the smoke and the twilight;
and the old timers sat tight and smoked.

"Buck Johnson here?" asked Thorne in his big voice.