Ravenously, the man partook of the food. After several mouthfuls of the meat he looked up inquiringly.
“Venison?” he asked.
Teagler nodded.
“Got him just back of the rimrock down Cincher Creek.”
He looked at the battered alarm-clock on a shelf. The hands met at twelve o’clock.
“Excuse me,” said Teagler. “Music with our meals.”
He moved over to the wall, to the horn the stranger had observed and reached for a switch.
“Radio?” asked the stranger. “I noticed the fixings.”
For answer, Teagler turned on the switch. A moment’s manipulation and a raucous voice was heard closing an announcement. Then came a jazzy dance tune.
“Slick,” said the stranger, “way up here back of nowhere.”