"I see through it all," Shorty communed with himself. "They're goin' to the same place that we are, and've got them carpet-bags filled with revolvers and cartridges. Somebody's goin' to have a little surprise party before he's a day older."
The sun had now gotten so high that Shorty could hardly pretend to sleep longer. He gave a tremendous yawn and sat up. The older man regarded him attentively, the other sullenly.
"You must've bin out late last night, stranger," said the first.
"I was," answered Shorty, giving him a meaning look.
"Did you see a star?" inquired the older man.
"I did," answered Shorty.
"What star was it?"
"The Star of Bethlehem," answered Shorty boldly.
"'You're right, my brother," said the man, putting out his hand for the grip. Shorty did the same, trying to imitate what he had seen. The car was lurching, and the grasp was imperfect. The man seemed only half satisfied. Shorty saw this, and with his customary impudence determined to put the onus of recognition on the other side. He drew his hand back as if disappointed, and turned a severe look upon the other man.
"Where are you from?" asked the first-comer. Shorty curtly indicated the other side of the Ohio by a nod.