Teagler turned.
“Well?” he abruptly inquired.
The thought struck him that this might be the mining company man, come to deal for his property. He discarded this idea at once. Not only was the hour too early, but the stranger bore no appearance of a mining engineer.
“Nice place here.”
In the tone, Teagler was almost certain he detected a subtle mockery. So he did not answer, waited for the other to say more.
The stranger had a flabby look. His beard was several days old, black and heavy. A pair of very dark eyes shifted from Teagler’s face, roamed the mountainside and the shanty’s exterior. The fellow was attired in a dark brown suit, shapeless now and caked with dirt about the shoe-tops, but the prospector was aware that the garment was of expensive cut. The man’s felt hat retained dapper lines.
As Teagler eyed him, the newcomer whipped out a dirty handkerchief and dabbed with it at his perspiring face.
“That was some climb, old-timer,” he asserted.
“Yeah?”
Teagler looked at the stranger’s shoes. “Town” shoes. Rubber-soled. That was why they had given no sound as the man toiled up the trail. The fellow had a cat-like appearance, too.