"Not quite so bad as that," was Charley's quick reply. "It's a pity if we three," throwing out his chest, "can't cook his goose for him. Bill has seen him. Didn't you say he gambled? Thought so. Oh, he won't be lonesome; there's plenty more here of that stripe. Gamblers, thieves, and sharks own the town. They do. It ain't safe to be out late nights alone, unless you've got a Colt or a Derringer handy, for fear of the Hounds."
"The Hounds!" echoed Walter and Bill.
"Yes, the Hounds; that's what they call the ruff-scuff here. There's a storm brewing," he added mysteriously, then suddenly changing the subject, he asked, "Where do you hombres ranch?"
"Under the blue kannerpy, I guess," said Bill in a heavy tragedian's voice.
"Not by a jugful! You'll both stop aboard here with me. I'm cap'n, chief cook, and bottle-washer. Bill's cut out for a lighterman, so he's as good as fixed. Something 'll turn up for Walt."
"What did you mean by ranching?" Walter asked.
"This is it. This is my ranch. You hire a room or a shanty, do your own cooking and washing, roll yourself up in your blanket at night and go it alone, as independent as a hog on ice. Oh, you'll soon get used to it, never fear, and like it too; bet your life. Women's as scarce as hens' teeth out here. You can't think it. Why, man alive, a nice, well-dressed lady is such a curiosity that I've seen all hands run out o' doors to get a sight of one passin' by. Come, Bill, bear a hand, and pull an armful of gunny-bags out of that bale for both your beds. Look out for that candle! That's a keg of blastin' powder you're settin' on, Walt! If I'd only known I was goin' to entertain company I'd 'a' swep' up a bit. Are you all ready? Then one, two, three, and out she goes." And with one vigorous puff out went the light.
When Bill turned out in the morning he found Charley already up and busying himself with the breakfast things. "What's this 'ere craft loaded with?" was his first question.
"Oh, a little of everything, assorted, you can think of, from gunny-bags to lumber."
Walter was sitting on a locker, with one boot on and the other in his hand, listening. At hearing the word lumber he pricked up his ears. "That reminds me," he broke in. "Bright & Company shipped a cargo out here; dead loss; they said it was rotting in the ship that brought it."