“I’ll be all right in a minute,” said Hugh. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Tommy Prince,” said the stranger. “I jist kem in from my camp to-day for them onions.”
Hugh drew a long breath. The luck had turned at last.
CHAPTER XXV.
IN THE BUFFALO CAMP.
“You’re just the man I was looking for,” said Hugh, taking in the stranger with his eyes. “I want to get out to Reeves’s buffalo camp, and I hear you’re the only man who knows that country at all. Can you get time to come down with me? I’ll make it worth your while.”
He waited for the reply with a beating heart. If this man failed him he saw nothing for it but to go back. The stranger lit his pipe with the leisurely movements of a man who had never been in a real hurry in his life.
Then he spoke slowly.
“Well, it’s this way, boss, you see. I’m just startin’ off in no end of a hurry to go and take a team of bullocks to the Oriental to draw quartz.”
“Can’t you put it off for a while?” said Hugh. “It’s getting near the wet season.”
“Well, I’d like to go with you, boss, but I couldn’t chuck ’em over—not rightly I couldn’t.” He stroked his beard and relapsed into thought.