Doubleday, a squat man with a sharp nose and a sharper eye, evinced no surprise at his employer's message. He merely swore resignedly on learning that Mackenzie had not sent in the mail by Loudon, and in the same breath thanked his Maker that a new man had arrived.
The advent of Loudon was most opportune, according to Doubleday. For, one "Lanky" having taken a wife and removed to the Sweet River Agency, the Flying M was a man short.
"Turn yore hoss into the big corral," said Doubleday, when he had sufficiently condemned the foolishness of Lanky, "an' take yore saddle over to the bunkhouse. There's three empty bunks. Help yoreself. Then c'mon over to the little corral an' bring yore rope. Got an outlaw stallion with a cut hind leg, an' it's a two-man job."
Loudon found favour in the eyes of Doubleday. The former Bar S puncher did his work easily and well. He proved a better roper than Doubleday, and he was the equal in horsemanship of "Telescope" Laguerre, the half-breed buster.
With Laguerre, Loudon struck up an instant friendship. Telescope—which name was the natural transformation undergone by Telesphore in a Western climate—was a long lean man, with the straight black hair and the swarthy complexion of his Indian mother and the mobile features and facile speech and gestures of his French father. When Loudon had been at the Flying M three days Telescope suggested that they ride to town in the evening.
"We weel go to de dance hall," said Laguerre. "Fine woman dere. We weel dance a leetle, we weel dreenk de w'iskey, un we weel have de good tam. By gar, I not been to town for two mont. Wat your say, Tom?"
"I'd shore enjoy goin' along, Telescope, but I can't," replied Loudon, mindful of his promise to Scotty Mackenzie.
"Dat ees all right," said the large-hearted half-breed. "She ees my treat. I have more as one hundred dollar, un by gar! I wan' for to spen' eet. You are my frien'. You help me for spen' eet. We weel burn up de dance hall."
"Oh, I'm not broke," said Loudon. "I'll go with yuh another time."
Laguerre, being wise in his generation, forbore to insist, and rode to town alone. The cook predicted a three-day orgy.