“I dare say;” and Benson turned this over in his mind; he felt that it was a matter to be carefully thought out. For one thing, it meant that his search need not begin east of Salt Lake, and this was a very important point. He was grateful to Gibbs; and his manner became almost friendly.
“How long do you expect to remain here?” he asked.
Gibbs laughed uneasily.
“I left the stage at Columbus and hired a man to drive me over,” he explained. “I guess I'd better go back there the first thing in the morning. You were unkind enough to suggest tar and feathers; the hint wasn't wasted.”
“Perhaps I was a little severe, Gibbs,” said Benson grudgingly. “But you know she is my cousin.”
“I'm delighted at the connection,” and the captain bowed.
“Well, what are you going to do?” asked Benson.
“I was going to one of the taverns; but I guess that's hardly safe. Oh, I'll put in the night somehow.”
Benson hesitated a moment, and then he said:
“You'd better have supper with me, and spend the night here. I'll drive you back about day. You'll run no risk.” And he led the way into the dining-room, while his guest followed him with a hangdog look on his face. This unexpected kindness effected him more deeply than all Benson's previous contempt; and the man's heart was touched.