This latter individual exploded a hearty laugh as McGlory recoiled and stared like a person in a trance.
“Howdy, son?” barked the man in the long coat, sweeping down on the cowboy and seizing his hand. “Something of a surprise, hey? Lookin’ for Griggs, by gad, and you find me!”
“Colonel!” gulped McGlory. “Speak to me about this! Why, I thought you were in Tucson?”
“Made up my mind at the last minute that I’d better trek eastward and make sure the deal for the ‘Dream’ went through.” He slapped McGlory on the back. “A fortune, my boy, for all of us, by gad! The ‘Dream’s’ a bonanza—gold from the grass roots down. But present your friend; present your friend.”
The colonel turned beamingly toward Matt.
“My pard, Matt King,” said McGlory. “Everybody has heard of him, I reckon.”
“You do me proud,” bubbled the colonel, seizing Matt’s hand and pumping his arm up and down. “A friend of McGlory’s is a friend of mine. Allow me”—and he turned toward Levitt, only to find Levitt leaning across the table, his jaws agape. “Well, well, well!” mumbled the colonel. “What’s flagged you, Levitt?”
“We’ve met before,” grinned Levitt.
“How’s that?”
“These are the young fellows to whom I gave that confounded runabout.”