"No, thank you," answered the unreasonable stranger; "I don't drink."
The boys looked incredulously at each other, while the colonel arose and paced the front of the saloon two or three times, looking greatly puzzled. He finally stopped and said:
"The mizzable rat isn't fit to be out uv doors, an' needs takin' keer ov. Come here, feller," called the colonel; "be kinder sociable—don't stand there a gawpin' at us ez ef we wuz a menagerie."
The youth approached slowly, stared through the crowd, and finally asked:
"Is there any one here from Pawkin Centre?"
No one responded.
"Some men went out to Californy from Pawkin Centre, and I didn't know but some of 'em was here. I come from ther' myself—my name's Mix," the youth continued..
"Meanin' no disrespect to your dad," said the colonel, "Mr. Mix, Senior, ortn't to hev let you come out here—you ain't strong enough—you'll git fever 'n ager 'fore you've washed dirt half a day."
"I ain't got no dad," replied the stranger; "leastways he ran away ten years ago, an' mother had a powerful hard time since, a-bringin' up the young uns, an' we thought I might help along a big sight if I was out here."
The colonel was not what in the States would be called a prayer-meeting man, but he looked steadily at the young man, and inwardly breathed a very earnest "God have mercy on you all." Then he came back to the more immediate present, and, looking about, asked: