The stranger turned in his saddle and looked back at the Pass.
“She’s a long ways through that place,” he said. “Some of them sheepherders are awful liars when it comes to distance. But then yuh can’t expect too much intelligence, I s’pose. If they knew a mile from a rod they wouldn’t be herdin’ sheep. The last meal I had was in Marshville. My name’s Collins.”
“My name’s Kelton,” said Harry as he unlocked the gate. “And we might scare yuh up a little food down at the house.”
The tall man dismounted and led his roan mare through the gateway. She was a small animal, hardly a fit mount for a man the size of her rider.
“I thought I saw a town, ’way down there,” he said, pointing a lean forefinger towards Medicine Tree.
Harry nodded as he unlocked the gate.
“That’s Medicine Tree,” he said.
“Well, shucks, I’ll jist ride down there and nourish m’self.”
“You’ll stop at the ranch,” said Harry. He wanted more information about this man who rode from Marshville.
“Well, that’s nice of yuh, Kelton; if it ain’t too much trouble.”