Brand Fair hung his hat on a nail and turned to the well as Bud came whistling up the path.
“Fine, Mammy,” he called back, “everything at Sky Line’s doing well. Rod and Minnie make things move, and I can trust them. The only thing that jars is old Josefa who never fails to tell me that all half-breeds are fools, and that white men can’t be trusted. And then she bakes an extra pie for Rod and smiles at Minnie proudly. Yes—all’s well. All’s well on Nameless, eh, old-timer?”
And swinging the boy once more to his shoulder, he followed young Bud in across the sill.