"All right," he said. "Advance, and be damned. Who are you?"
"Hello, Blackguard! The very man I want—I'm Long Leslie."
"Sit down, old chap. Help yourself from the tea kettle. Well, how are things?"
"I'm fencing for General Buster," said Leslie,—"got to earn our winter grub at the Tough Nut."
"How's the claim?"
"Ripping. Came on a splendid pay streak up at the hanging wall. These contact propositions are always worth assessments, anyway. Shorty and me are both working at Buster's, and when I heard your bugle calls I thought I'd stroll over. Come up from Tobacco Plains?"
"Yes, bound north again."
"I guessed you were with this outfit."
"Thanks, old man."
"I hear that Arrapahoe Bill is in trouble up at the bull pasture on Throne Creek."