Mr. Brown scanned the new-comers with an eye to business. Being strangers, he naturally looked upon them as possible customers, and was disposed from motives of policy to cultivate their acquaintance.
"Evenin', strangers," he remarked, as affably as a rather gruff voice and manner would permit.
"Good-evening," said Bill Mosely, socially. "What might be the name of this settlement?"
"You kin see the name on that sign yonder, stranger, ef your eyes are strong enough."
"I reckon."
"It ought to be a good place, from the name."
"It's middlin' good. Where might you be from?"
"We're prospectin' a little," answered Bill Mosely vaguely; for there had been circumstances in his California career that made it impolitic to be too definite in his statements.
"Where are you bound?" continued the landlord, with that licensed curiosity which no one ventured to object to in California.