"Plenty," and the squaw man crossed the room and handed out a big black plug. "What else?"
"Some ca'tridges. I'm 'bout cleaned out."
"Goin' out on the hills to-day, Dan?" queried the storekeeper.
"Guess likely. Saw some big sheep thar t'other day, an' I need them bad, fer my stock of meat's gittin' low."
"Is the stranger goin' with ye?"
"Mebbe so. 'Cordin' how he feels. Wall, so long, I must be off."
Dan did not notice the interested look in Siwash Bill's face when he learned that the trapper was bound for the hills. Neither did he see the squaw man and Windy Pete engaged in an eager conversation in the back room a few minutes later. He strode forward little realising that his few words were acting like fire to tow in two cunning minds within the store.
He reached Old Meg's house, and rapped upon the door. The owner herself appeared, and stood looking curiously out upon the trapper.
"How's the lassie?" Dan blurted forth. He did not like the expression in the woman's face, and longed to get through with his errand as soon as possible.