XXIV
For a matter of ten seconds neither of the two men moved. Keith was stunned. Andy Duggan's eyes were fairly popping out from under his bushy brows. And then unmistakably Keith caught the scent of bacon in the air.
"Andy—Andy Duggan," he choked. "You know me—you know Johnny Keith—you know me—you—"
Duggan answered with an inarticulate bellow and jumped at Keith as if to bear him to the ground. He hugged him, and Keith hugged, and then for a minute they stood pumping hands until their faces were red, and Duggan was growling over and over:
"An' you passed me there at McCoffin's Bend—an' I didn't know you, I didn't know you, I didn't know you! I thought you was that cussed Conniston! I did. I thought you was Conniston!" He stood back at last. "Johnny—Johnny Keith!"
"Andy, you blessed old devil!"
They pumped hands again, pounded shoulders until they were sore, and in Keith's face blazed once more the love of life.
Suddenly old Duggan grew rigid and sniffed the air. "I smell bacon!"
"It's in the pack, Andy. But for Heaven's sake don't notice the bacon until you explain how you happen to be here."