"I hope things have changed," said Paul, by no means prepossessed in favor of Cheyenne by what he had heard. "If they haven't, I don't think I shall stay here long."
"Oh, yes, it's settled down, so that life is pretty safe. They had to raise a vigilance committee to set things straight like they did in Frisco. It's all right now."
"I am glad to hear it."
Meanwhile they had entered the hotel, and Paul succeeded in securing a room adjoining that of Mr. Scott, or Jim Scott, as he insisted on being called.
After he had washed and changed his clothing, he sat down to a substantial meal, which he enjoyed with the hearty appetite of youth. Then Mr. Scott invited him to take a walk about the town.
"I say, youngster, have you got a father and mother?"
"My father is dead, but I have a mother and sister living."
"And what did your mother say to your comin' out here?"
"She was willing, knowing that I had my own way to make."
"I haven't chick or child myself. I had a wife once, but she died twenty years ago. Now I've got money, but sometimes I feel lonely."