“I do not.”
“Or in the moon, maybe?”
“No, nor in the moon,” I retorted. “But what is all this about?”
“I’ll be damned!” he roundly vouchsafed. And—“You’ve been having a quiet little smile with her, eh?” He sniffed suspiciously. “A few swigs of that’ll make a pioneer of you quicker’n alkali. She’s favoring you—eh? Now if she tells you of a system, take my advice and quit while your hair’s long.”
“My hair is my own fashion, sir,” I rebuked. “And the lady is not for discussion between gentlemen, particularly as my acquaintance with her is only casual. I don’t understand your remarks, but if they are insinuations I shall have to ask you to drop the subject.”
“Tut, tut!” he grinned. “No offense intended, Mister Pilgrim. Well, you’re all right. We can’t be young more than once, and if the lady takes you in tow in Benton you’ll have the world by the tail as long as it holds. She moves with the top-notchers; she’s a knowing little piece—no offense. Her and me are good enough friends. There’s no brace game in that deal. I only aim to give you a steer. Savvy?” And he winked. “You’re out to see the elephant, yourself.”
“I am seeking health, is all,” I explained. “My 35 physician had advised a place in the Far West, high and dry; and Benton is recommended.”
His response was identical with others preceding.
“High and dry? By golly, then Benton’s the ticket. It’s sure high, and sure dry. You bet yuh! High and dry and roaring.”
“Why ’roaring’?” I demanded at last. The word had been puzzling me.