“What have you got there, William?” asked that gentleman in the soft and low and musical voice which was one of his most dangerous fascinations.
The other men looked up from their letters and stared at the bundle, a soft something wrapped in an old mail-bag.
“Who have you been robbing now, Bill?” inquired one.
“It’s a new dress he lifted from the store at Dog’s Ear Camp for his missis,” suggested a humorist.
Bill twisted his huge mouth into a smile.
“Guess again,” he said, “though you wouldn’t hit it if you tried all night. Hands off!” he added, as one of them made for the bundle. “What do you say, Varley?”
Varley Howard shrugged his shoulders and took up a pack of cards.
“Take the child home to its mother,” he said.
Bill smacked the table noiselessly, and eyed Varley Howard with admiration.
“Right the first time, Mr. Howard!” he said. “There’s no getting a rise out of you.”