The lazy individual ducked his head toward the east end of the
street, cast a last look at the cow and calf, and, turning, went back
into the saloon.

"Nice sort of people," grunted Hapgood.

Conniston laughed. "Buck up, Roger," he grinned, his own spurt of
irritation lost in his enjoyment of Hapgood's greater bitterness.
"It's different, anyhow, isn't it? Come on. Let's see what the hotel
looks like."

The hotel was a saloon with a long bar at the front, a little room
just off, containing a couple of tables covered with red oil-cloth.
Beyond were half a dozen six-by-six rooms separated from one another
by partitions rising to within two feet of the unceiled roof. The
proprietor, busy with some local friends in the card-room, saw the two
young men come in and yelled, lustily:

"Mary!"

Mary, a stout and comfortable-looking woman, appeared from the
kitchen, wiping her hands upon her blue apron, and with a sharp glance
at the newcomers bobbed her head at them and said, briefly, "Howdy."

Conniston took off his hat and came into the bar-room. Roger, with a
careless glance at the woman, came in without taking off his hat and
dropped into one of the rickety chairs against the wall. And there he
sat until Conniston had negotiated for two rooms for the night. Then
he got jerkily to his feet and stalked after his friend and their