“Hallo! Tommy John!” said the driver, bringing his team down to a walk.
“That you, George?”
“What is left of me, my son. Where are you bound for, Tommy?”
“The old Sandy, as usual.”
“How far did you come to-day, Tommy?”
“From the Stone Ranch.”
“You must have left there mighty early.”
“Yes! I started afore daylight. I nooned at the Wala Hole, and watered my stock and cooked my supper at the Great Alamos.”
The conductor then informed “Tommy John,” whose real name was John Thompson, as I learned, of the state of things at the Stone Ranch when the coach passed there.
“So, friend Tommy,” he concluded, “you have got through by a scratch.”