"Wandering William!" exclaimed the two young adventurers in one breath.
"Yes, Wandering William. The precise individual," was the rejoinder; "and just in time to invite you to breakfast. There, there, no explanations now. You both resemble the output of a threshing machine. But I have mirrors, soap, towels and water in my wagon. Come along, and if you feel ailing, for the insignificant sum of one dollar I will sell you a bottle of Wandering William's Wonderful Wonder Worker."
Exhausted as both boy and girl felt, they could hardly maintain their gravity in the face of this eccentric individual. The very suddenness and utter unexpectedness of his appearance seemed of a piece with his other odd actions. But suddenly Roy recollected the figure that had appeared and then vanished.
"I'd like to accept," said Roy, with vast cunning as he thought, "but what would your partner say?"
"My partner?" Wandering William looked frankly puzzled.
"Yes. That young chap who came toward us and then disappeared again when I came at him with a gun. Not that I blame him," Roy broke off with a laugh, "but I thought for a moment it was one of Red Bill's gang."
Wandering William's keen gray eyes narrowed into two little slits.
"What's that you're saying, boy," he exclaimed; "what do you know about Red Bill Summers?"
"A good deal too much for our comfort," exclaimed Roy, and then he rapidly sketched events of the last twenty-four hours as the trio walked toward Wandering William's wagon.
The strange vendor of medicine seemed to be deeply interested, although he confined his comments to "ums" and "ahs."