With the same bewildering speed and dexterity the man returned in his chair, holding a pitcher and a tin cup in his hand. Even while in motion he poured the water out.
He seemed to enjoy watching the boys drink deeply, and when they had finished he wheeled back to the kitchen and returned at lightning speed. Noting the interested looks of the boys he chuckled.
“Guess the old man knows how to walk well’s if he had feet, eh?”
“You walk better than a whole lot of people who have feet,” gravely affirmed Vench.
“If you was spending your life in one of these all-fired things you’d know how to ride one, too,” he told them. “Don’t you fellows go. I don’t see a heap of folks and I like to chin once in a while.”
“We’ll be glad to stay and talk with you, Mr. Vancouver,” smiled Jim, leaning back against a post. “We are just out exploring and we’d just as soon sit here and talk as wander around.”
“Glad to hear you say it,” approved the old man. “Let’s hear something about that there camp of yourn.”
The boys told him several things about the camp, all of which seemed to interest him deeply. In the course of the talk the incident of the ghost and the stampede was mentioned. The old man bent eagerly forward.
“Did you get a visit from the ghost?” he cried.
“Yes, he stampeded our horses,” Jim told him. “What do you know about him, Mr. Vancouver?”