As the crowd made way for him he caught sight of Bud, and stopped and stared for several moments without speaking.
Bud had not noticed him, but when he did look up he returned the stare, and his forehead was wrinkled in thought.
Somewhere in the back part of his head he carried a picture of this man, but under different circumstances.
Who could he be, and where had he been met, were the things that were puzzling Bud.
"Hello, pard, you don't seem to place me," said the man on the Spanish mule. "But I haven't forgotten you by a dern sight. Think hard."
"I've saw yer som'er's," said Bud thoughtfully, "but it wa'n't like this. You're som'er's in my picture gallery o' faces, but yer ain't ther same as when I saw yer last."
"Right ye are," said the man. "How's Chiquita getting along?"
"Ah, I've got yer now. How did yer come out? Middlin' well, ter jedge from ther mule yer ridin', an' yer ginral appearance o' prosperity."
"You bet I be," said the man, "an' if it hadn't been fer you I wouldn't have been nowhere. I've come a long ways ter hunt yer up, ter thank yer, an' to get better acquainted with yer."
"Well, ye've got me inter a heap o' trouble," said Bud, laughing.