“Did it? My gosh, I’ll betcha it did. Ask Hartley and Stevens; they showed up in the rain. Yuh see, they was on that stalled cow-train, and Stevens had a toothache; so they tried to find their way to the wagon-bridge in order to get to town. But I reckon they got kinda lost, and ended up at the HJ.”
Merrick laughed.
“I don’t believe I could have found my way either—as well as I know the country. Whew! It sure was dark and wet. My place didn’t leak, but it got damp. Are you boys goin’ to be with us a while?”
“I dunno,” Hashknife leaned an elbow on the bar and began rolling a cigarette. “It looks as though Fate kinda dropped us off here for some reason or other.”
“Too bad it’s the slack season. I’m short two men of my regular crew, but there ain’t enough work for me and Ben Collins and ‘Dutch’ Seibert. Later on I might use yuh.”
“I loaned Honey to the HJ,” laughed Bellew. “I’ve still got Eph Harper and Slim Coleman on my hands. Ma says that’s two men too many. She allus says I’m tryin’ to make a mountain out of a mole-hill—meanin’ that I can’t ever hire enough men to make the Lazy B a big cow outfit.”
While they were drinking a man came in whom the bartender seemed to know. It was the telegraph operator at the depot. He bought a drink and a cigar.
“I suppose the sheriff is hunting bandits,” he said.
“We seen him out at the HJ this mornin’,” offered Honey.
The man nodded.