Haddon sat frowning in silence for quite a while. “You’re a funny lot, you mountain people,” said he. “It’s hard to do business with you.”
“Some ways it mought be hard with me,” replied Joslin.
“Well, don’t you need the money that I could pay you?”
“There’s nobody in the world needs money more’n I do. But I tolt ye I was headed the other way.”
“Won’t you go back in if I pay you the right wages?”
“No, I’m headed the other way.”
“Well, now, listen,” said Haddon irritably. “I need some native that knows those damned people. They tell me there’s no such thing as roads, and you have to ride horseback or muleback wherever you want to go.”
“That’s so,” replied the mountain man. “That’s the onliest way. There hain’t no sich thing as towns. Ye’d have to stop at the cabins. Ary man’s welcome in there if they think he’s all right, an’ hain’t a-lookin’ fer nothin’ er nobody.”
“Oh, ho!” said Haddon, nodding understandingly. “Some trouble in there, eh? Well, I suppose you’ve seen your share of it.” He grinned, as he looked at Joslin’s head, where he had already noted the wound still unhealed.