“Don't? Say, by the great Sam, how'd you get through all that wet country? Wall, it will not hurt you to leave it alone,” solemnly winking at St. Clair, and taking a long pull himself. “Good for the breath,” he continued, putting the flask in his pocket. “Now, about those limits of mine, the boss here has been telling you about our deal?”
“A little,” said Ranald.
“We've hardly had time to look into anything yet,” said Mr. St. Clair; “but if you will step into my office, Colonel, I have the papers and maps there.” Mr. St. Clair's tone was anxious. Once more the colonel shot a glance at him.
“You have been on the spot, I judge,” he said to Ranald, rising and following Mr. St. Clair.
“Yes, over it all.”
“Wall, come along, you're the map we want, eh? Maps are chiefly for purposes of deception, I have found, ha, ha! and there ain't none of 'em right,” and he held the door for Ranald to enter.
Mr. St. Clair was evidently annoyed. Unfolding a map he laid it out on the table. “This is the place, I believe,” he said, putting his finger down upon the map.
“Ain't surveyed, I judge,” said the colonel to Ranald.
“No, only in part; the old Salter lines are there, but I had to go away beyond these.”
“Warn't 'fraid of gettin' lost, eh? Ha, ha! Wall show us your route.”