OLD BOB TAKES A PARTNER.
CHAPTER V.
OLD BOB TAKES A PARTNER.
One day when our miners were nearing the end of their cross-cut, Old Bob was sitting in his cabin down in the outskirts of the village, trying with his squinting eyes and stiff fingers to mend a pair of brown duck trousers, which were past any further wearing without repairs.
He was worrying and muttering over this miserable task, when he heard hurried footsteps approach and stop at the door. A moment later it was pushed open and a man entered whom he did not recognize.
“I ’spose likely you don’t know me,” the stranger said. “I’m Scotty.”
“Scotty, eh? Well, stranger, I don’t know ye much better by that, but take a cheer. Did ye come over the range? and did ye have any business with me?”
The stranger sat down, took from his pocket a flat-bottle, unscrewed the top and offered it to his host.
Bob received it, remarked civilly, “Well, here’s how,” and poured a deep draught of its contents down his throat. Then wiping his lips with the back of his hand he passed the bottle back, with the comment:
“You air a gentleman, sir, or you wouldn’t be passin’ round whisky ’s good as that.”