"I don't know. Doesn't he, Lora?"
"You slur them," Lora said, smiling. "Talk some more. I'm interested in dialects." She glanced at him, white-teethed. Conger felt his heart constrict.
"I have a speech impediment."
"Oh." Her eyes widened. "I'm sorry."
They looked at him curiously as the car purred along. Conger for his part was struggling to find some way of asking them questions without seeming curious. "I guess people from out of town don't come here much," he said. "Strangers."
"No." Bill shook his head. "Not very much."
"I'll bet I'm the first outsider for a long time."
"I guess so."
Conger hesitated. "A friend of mine—someone I know, might be coming through here. Where do you suppose I might—" He stopped. "Would there be anyone certain to see him? Someone I could ask, make sure I don't miss him if he comes?"
They were puzzled. "Just keep your eyes open. Cooper Creek isn't very big."