This was the last of camp by Bull Lake Crossing, and in the foreman's company young Lin now took the road for his accumulated dollars.
“So you're leaving your bedding and stuff with the outfit?” said the foreman.
“Brought my tooth-brush,” said Lin, showing it in the breast-pocket of his flannel shirt.
“Going to Denver?”
“Why, maybe.”
“Take in San Francisco?”
“Sounds slick.”
“Made any plans?”
“Gosh, no!”
“Don't want anything on your brain?”