“That, I should think,” Mr. Temple remarked, “is rather a mark of respect.”
“I s’pose so, stranger,” he said more soberly, and then: “Who may you be, sir?” he asked respectfully.
Mr. Temple then proceeded to tell him, and of the nature of his visit and how he wanted a guide to take him through the pass. He also told him that he wanted to get the agreement from his surveyors so that he could close the deal with Ezra Knapp.
“Wa-al,” drawled Uncle Jeb, “I can guide yuh to whar yuh want ter go, fer I wuz jest on my way up to the Inn to take a look-in on my ol’ pardner afore goin’ home. So, you might jes as well come along with me, Mr. Temple.”
And that was the way that Mr. Temple met Uncle Jeb Rushmore.
CHAPTER XI—THE LOST AGREEMENT
Mr. Temple jogged along with Uncle Jeb in a dilapidated buckboard, oblivious of any discomfort, for he was fascinated with this old scout’s quaint views of life, and listened attentively to the reminiscences of his trapping days.
“Don’t do much else now but chore aroun’,” he said rather sadly. “Guess I’m a-gittin’ too old!”
“Not at all,” Mr. Temple reassured him.
“Wa-al, anyway I’m a figgerin’ on givin’ up my cabin one of these days,” he said. “’Tain’t jest the thing when a man gits so old ter live by himself, and my cabin’s pretty fur frum the Inn.”