He stood near the doorway and grinned with embarrassed guilt at the assembled company.
“I reckon I got too much Fourth of July at Gimlet Butte, boys. That’s how come I to be onpunctual getting back.”
There was a long silence, during which those at the table looked at him with an expressionless gravity that did not seem to veil an unduly warm welcome.
“Hello, Mac! Hello, boys! I just got back,” he further contributed.
Without comment the Lazy D resumed supper. Apparently it had not missed Reddy or noticed his return. Casual conversation was picked up cheerfully. The return of the prodigal was quite ignored.
“Then that blamed cow gits its back up and makes a bee-line for Rogers. The old man hikes for his pony and—”
“Seems good to git my legs under the old table again,” interrupted Reddy with cheerful unease.
“—loses by about half a second,” continued Missou. “If Doc hadn’t roped its hind laig—”
“Have some cigars, boys. I brought a box back with me.” Reddy tossed a handful on the table, where they continued to lie unnoticed.
“—there’s no telling what would have happened. As ’twas the old man got off with a—”