"Dave's a little lean, but he's all there. Looks don't count, do they, partner?"
"I do the best I can," Dave responded, solemnly.
"Not at meal-time, I reckon," the sheriff said. "Feed up and get fat. A kid like you has no business having so many joints and bones sticking out."
"I been through a hard winter last winter, and this spring, too, till Mr. Bryant picked me up."
"How's that?" the horseman inquired.
"My mother died at Kennard. I didn't get on very well after that; not much there for a boy to work at. And I hadn't any folks."
"Hump. What's your last name?"
"Morris."
"Any relation to Jack Morris?"
"He was my father."