"Anything I can cook and eat," replied Enoch, dismounting stiffly.
"What kind of camp is this?"
"Navajo. What your name?"
"Smith. What's yours?"
"John Red Sun. How much you pay for grub?"
"Depends on what kind and how much. Which way are you folks going?"
"We take horses to the railroad," replied John Red Sun. "Me and my brother, that's all, so we haven't got much grub. You come over by the fire." Enoch dropped the reins over Pablo's head and followed to the fire. An Indian, who was boiling coffee at the little blaze, looked up with interest in his black eyes.
"Good evening," said Enoch. "My name is Smith."
The Indian nodded. "You like a cup of coffee? Just done."
"Thanks, yes." Enoch sat down gratefully by the fire. The desert night was sharp.
"Where you going, Mr. Smith?" asked John Red Sun.