As I crossed the right-of-way my attention was attracted by a man seated on the ground, his back against a telegraph pole. As I walked past, he raised his hat and spoke.
“I would advise you to stay away from the depot, madam. The station agent is having a little dispute with a couple of drunken cowboys. It is scarcely the place for a lady.”
“It is kind of you to warn me,” I replied. “It was my intention to wait there for my husband, but we can scarcely miss one another in this town.”
The stranger sprang to his feet. “Permit me to offer you my telegraph pole,” he exclaimed with a winning smile. Lifting one of the blanket rolls, he placed it for a seat, and as I settled myself, sank down on the other bundle and entered into conversation.
He was a man on the sunny side of forty, tall, slender, but possessed of evident strength. His mouth was at once humorous and stern, his nose, high-arched with sensitive nostrils, gave him a cold, patrician air, which one forgot when he spoke. Then white teeth flashed from his sunbrowned face, and his eyes, of a peculiarly intense reddish-brown, twinkled roguishly. Never had I listened to a more musical human voice. With the utmost tact he led me to tell of our experiences. Soon he was in possession of the salient features of our journey.
“I am a sort of Ishmaelite myself,” he declared. “I take my home with me. I pay no rent, no interest, no taxes. I do no worrying. I make no plans. I dream no dreams. I enjoy all in the way of good living that a human animal can hope for. When this civilisation is tottering to its fall, I shall be safe in a mountain resort known to me alone, prepared to round out my days in peace and comfort.”
“Too bad that such a nice appearing man should be so crazy,” I said to myself as he ceased speaking. As though in answer to my thought he burst out laughing.
“Oh, I’m not as crazy as I sound. At any rate, I’m mighty practical about it, as I shall soon demonstrate to you. My modern prairie schooner, a home on wheels, will be along presently, and then I hope to initiate you into a rational method of living in an insane world. Yonder the caravan approaches.”
Following his gaze, I saw a team of mules hitched to a long, broad, light spring wagon with a black cover like a heavy automobile top, driven by a large fair woman, dressed in a yellow duster. Close behind a young man followed with a team of horses attached to a smaller wagon or buckboard.
My acquaintance stepped to the side of the road and hailed the woman, who halted at the edge of the right-of-way. After a brief conversation, she turned the mules and moved off across the track. The man turned as Dan approached and introduced himself at once.