Roy was glad enough to do a little sight-seeing. He visited all the stores and at last found himself in a half drug and half general store in one corner of which was a stock of unique Indian relics. In a few moments the boy was on familiar terms with the proprietor—an old doctor. And in the next half hour he had selected a real Navajo blanket for his mother and an equally interesting turquoise set, silver ring for his father, although he knew that the latter parent would never wear it.
As the doctor curio-dealer was preparing the purchases for shipment by express to Newark, he said:
“Aren’t you the young man who came in this morning with Sink Weston?”
Roy answered that he was.
“Going back to-day?” continued the doctor.
“Going on,” he replied. “We’re goin’ to Bluff with a wagon of freight.”
“To Bluff?” exclaimed the storekeeper in apparent surprise. “With Sink Weston?”
“Yes,” retorted Roy, a little indignant. “Why not? Any reason why I shouldn’t travel with Mr. Weston?”
“No,” faltered the storekeeper. “No real reason, I guess. But—”
“But what?” added Roy sharply.