Chupurosa politely but haltingly repeated it, and grinned accommodatingly.
Jessamy tried again. "Do you know a piece of land down in Clinker Creek Cañon that is called the Old Ivison Place, Chupurosa?"
His nod this time was thoughtful.
"Señor Drew now owns that, and lives there," she added.
Both Jessamy and Oliver were watching him keenly. It seemed to Oliver that there was the faintest suggestion of dilation of the eye-pupils as this last bit of information was imparted. Still, it may have meant nothing.
The Indian crumbled natural-leaf with heel of hand and palm, and refilled his terrible pipe.
"Any friend of yours is welcome to this country and to my hospitality," he said.
"Señor Drew rode all the way up here horseback," the girl pushed on. "You like good horses, Chupurosa. Señor Drew has a fine one. His name is Poche."
For the fraction of a second the match that Oliver had handed Chupurosa stood stationary on its trip to the tobacco in his pipe. Chupurosa nodded in his slow way again, and the match completed its mission and fell between the blackened stones.
"And you like saddles and bridles, too, I know. You should see Señor Drew's equipment, Chupurosa."