The section-boss grunted.
"Lovely day," observed the other, with a bland smile. He changed his tack a little, as if he were going by.
Lancaster hobbled along with him. "Y-a-a-s," he drawled. "Right good. Some cool."
The stranger agreed by another series of swinging bows. "You got a nice place here—nice place," he continued affably. He loosened one thumb with a jerk.
"Nice 'nough."
The man halted in front of the shack and looked it over. "You're a Southern gentleman," said he, "by your talk."
"Ah am." Lancaster spoke with unfriendly rising inflection.
"Well, well." A hand was extended—a fat hand, where sparkled a diamond. "Say, now, this is lovely, lovely. I'm a Southerner myself, sir. Put it there!"
The section-boss hesitated. So far, Dakota had offered him no compatriot. He could scarce believe that one stood before him now. A second, then he gave a pleased grin. "Howdy," he said. "Hope y' goin' t' settle hereabout."
They shook heartily.