“Figure on going campin’ around here?”
“No, just hiking through for awhile.”
“Fellow in here this morning and bought a lot of stuff, enough to last a while, so thought that you might be following him up, since he was alone, and camping alone ain’t much fun.”
Garry was not particularly interested in campers, but he wanted to ask some questions later, and knowing the Yankee way, which was to talk of other things and get acquainted by asking questions first, asked carelessly if the storekeeper knew the other man, or heard where he was going.
“No, never saw him before, and he warn’t the kind to give out much information about himself. After I talk with a man a few minutes, I generally get to the point where I can swap questions with him; but this chap looked as though he didn’t want a friend in the world, and maybe didn’t have one.”
“Grouchy looking customer, eh?” said Garry with a laugh.
“Yes, siree Bob, not only grouchy looking, but hard looking. Now that I think of him, I see it was foolish to ask if you were with him, for he was a different breed of cats from you. Funny looking bird.”
“What did he look like,” asked Garry, mainly to keep conversation up for a few minutes longer.
“Big black-haired chap with a black moustache and dark skin, high cheek bones, looked like a halfbreed to me. Talked pretty good English, but with a little accent like they do up by the border.”
Garry’s heart beat high with excitement, for the storekeeper had described Jean LeBlanc to a “T.”