Before Roy could speak, his eye fell on an opened envelope lying on the disordered table. It wasn’t the address that met his gaze—on the upper left hand corner were the words: “Return in ten days to the Utah Mining and Development Company, Bluff, Utah.”
It was almost like a letter of introduction to the agent. Picking up the envelope, Roy exclaimed:
“Do you know Mr. Cook, the manager of this company?”
“Done business with him fur five years or more.”
“I’ve got business with the company. I’m going to Bluff.”
Colonel Weston let his tilted chair drop to the floor.
“Ye don’t say,” he exclaimed. “Mr. Cook was in hyar last week a pesterin’ me agin to go over thar.”
“You?” Roy asked. “Are you goin’?”
“I been a tryin’ to hold out agin it. I sorter reckoned I was through with Injuns an’ alkali, but—” looking around the room with a sorry grin, “I ain’t makin’ no fortune here.”