“You are right for once,” said Harling. “No matter whether we see ’em or not there isn’t much danger of you prophesying wrong.
“But I really think we are somewhere in their vicinity and we shall see something of them tomorrow—some sign at least that will give us an idea of their whereabouts.”
“Are you sure this emigrant train is where it can be found?” asked Fred Wainwright.
“Yes, sir. I said that; I understand it, which is a blamed sight more than either of you two lunkheads could do. The fellow was in earnest about it. Didn’t you see Harling how quick the feller came straight at me, and talked to me like a man whose life depended on his getting my service.”
“Did he go far enough to offer a price?” inquired Harling, rather quizzically.
“Yes, sir,” was the triumphant reply. “He hauled out several yellow boys, and wanted to put them in my hands to seal the bargain.”
“You took ’em, of course?” remarked Fred in a serious tone, but taking advantage of the darkness to grin to an alarming extent.
“No SIR!” was the indignant response. “I told ’em I took money after I’d done a thing—not before. He seemed quite anxious and urged me to take it saying it was a-ahem-a-rainen-strainer.”
“Retainer,” accented Fred.
“Yes; something like that; don’t know what it means, but I told him I did not do business in that way. I axed him all about the company and learned all I wanted, and then told him when it reached ‘Old Man’s Point,’ I’d be thar!”