"'Mrs. D. Roscoe Arlington,' the fust name," said the one called Hank. "Then comes 'Miss Arlington,' arter which is 'Mr. Eliot Dodge,' an' lastly I sees 'Hannah Jackson.'"
"Which last must be the nigger woman," said one of the rough men.
"I allows so," nodded Hank. "An' it 'pears to me that name o' Arlington is some familiar. I somehow thinks I has heard it."
"Why, to be course you has!" said another of the[Pg 182] men. "D. Roscoe Arlington, did you say? Who hasn't heerd that name? He's one o' them big guns what has so much money he can't count it to save his gizzard. Ev-rybody has heerd o' D. Roscoe Arlington. If he keeps on gittin' rich the way he has the past three years or so, old Morgan won't be in the game. Why, this Arlington may now be the richest man in this country, if ev'rything were rightly known about him. He owns railroads, an' mines, an' ships, an' manufacturin' plants, an' nobody knows what all."
"That sartin explains a whole lot the fixin' up that has been a-doin' around this ranch," said a little man with a thirsty-looking mouth. "They was a-preparin' fer the wife o' this mighty rich gent."
"But say!" exclaimed a young fellow with a wicked face, "ain't she got a slick-lookin' gal with her, what?"
Some of them laughed and slapped him on the back.
"Go on, Pete!" cried one chap. "You're a gay one with greaser gals, but you won't be able to make a wide trail with that yar young lady, so don't be lookin' that way."
"Wonder whatever could 'a' brought such people here," speculated a man with tobacco juice on his chin. "They must mean to stay a while, else they'd never had them rooms fixed up the way they are."
A ruffianly-looking man with a full beard broke into a low laugh.