It was while we sat there that I remembered that he had advertised for Jackson's relatives, and asked what he would do if they were heard of.
He had evidently forgotten about that, for he seemed put out, and then remarked that he would send them his share of the turquoises, still to be disposed of.
"But you——" I began, and he held up his hand.
"I don't want the stuff, anyhow," said he. "Now—don't worry me. Don't ask me questions. What I like about you is that you take me for granted. Don't spoil the impression of yourself you have given me by wanting to know how I will get on, and thinking me foolish for what I intend to do." He looked round on me. "Yes," said he, "I like you. Do you know that the fact that you had never asked me what George Brooks and I were enemies for made me your most humble servant? Would you like to hear that story?"
I nodded.
"Well, well," he said, and laughed. "That makes me like you all the more. You are really interested, and yet are polite enough not to ask questions. Yes—that's the sort of man I like."
But he had no intention of telling me that affair,—just chuckled to himself softly and remarking, "That must remain a mystery," he lapsed again into silence.
And then the train whistled at the last curve, shot into sight, and came thundering and screaming into the depot.
"Oh! Apache Kid," said I, "I cannot go to-day. I must wait till to-morrow."
"That is a pity," said he, "for then you would have to wait here alone all to-morrow. I go West with to-morrow morning's 'west-bound.'"