“Hold on!” he called, after a moment. “Then you’re not a friend of this Hound?”
The stranger turned in slow surprise.
“Me? What are you talking about?” He looked from one to the other of us, then returned the few steps he had taken. “I believe you don’t know me. I’m Randall, Danny Randall.”
“Yes?” puzzled Johnny.
“Of Sonoma,” added Randall.
“I suppose I should know you, but I’m afraid I don’t,” confessed Johnny.
Randall turned back to the tree beneath which lay our effects.
274“I believe I’ll just have a cup of coffee with you boys,” said he.
We blew up the fire, scoured the frying pan, made ourselves food. Randall brought a pail of water. We all ate together, without much conversation; then lit our pipes and piled on dry wood to make a brighter friendship fire.
“Now, boys,” said Randall, “I’m going to ask you some questions; and you can answer me or not, just as you please. Only I’ll say, it isn’t just curiosity.”