As to his hat, the less said about that the better.
He was fairly sober, for a wonder; but gave every evidence that he was just emerging from a long spree.
Sanders blinked at the party on the wagon as he approached. The horse had been pulled in from a smart trot to a slow walk.
When they came together he turned his animal out of the trail to allow the rig to pass.
As a matter of course, Gideon Prawle, who was driving, pulled up, and Sanders, having also stopped, addressed the miserable-looking wreck.
“Hello, Jim Sanders!”
“Howdy, pard!”
“I want to see you, Jim.”
“Wal, I reckon you’re lookin’ at me,” with a silly grin.
“You don’t seem to recollect me, Jim,” said Prawle.