Noo York than the devil drives him."

He scratched his head again, put on his hat, and reached once more for
his frying-pan.




CHAPTER IV


Lonesome Pete dragged from the buckboard a couple of much-worn quilts,
a careful examination of which hinted that they had once upon a time
been gay and gaudy with brilliant red and green patterns. Now they
were an astonishing congregation of lumps where the cotton had
succeeded in getting itself rolled into balls and of depressions where
the cotton had fled. Light and air had little difficulty in passing
through. Lonesome Pete jerked off the piece of rope which had held
them in a roll and flung them to the ground, directing toward Hapgood
a glance which was an invitation. And Hapgood, the fastidious, lay
down.

The red-headed man dumped a strange mess out of a square pasteboard
box into his frying-pan and set it upon some coals which he had
scraped out of his little fire. There was dried beef in that mess, and
onions and carrots and potatoes, and they had all been cooked up
together, needing only to be warmed over now. The odor of them went
abroad over the land and assailed Hapgood's nostrils. And Hapgood did
not frown, nor yet did he sneer. He lifted himself upon an elbow and
watched with something of real interest in his eyes. And when black