"How is it that you have so many provisions in your wagon?" she asked.
Thorne laughed.
"I live in it all summer."
"And you drive about selling things? Is it very remunerative?"
"No," admitted Thorne dryly; "I can't say that it is; but, you see, I like it. I'm afraid that I've a rooted objection to staying in one place very long, and while I can get a meal and the few things I need by selling an odd bottle of cosmetic, a gramophone, or a mirror, I'm content." He made a humorous gesture. "That's the kind of man I am."
Then he stood up.
"It's getting rather late and you'll find the wagon fixed up ready. If you hear a doleful howling you needn't be alarmed. It will only be the coyotes."
He disappeared into the shadows and Alison turned away toward the wagon.