Hugh was about to reply, when the bell rang. The major hastily arose, knocked the ashes from his cigar, and opened the door.
CHAPTER XIV.—THE SONG
THREE men stood on the veranda. “Why, how do you do?” said the major, “come in. I am very glad to see you.”
Judge Linus Lynn, with his weather-beaten tile, Bill Kinneman, with his red eyes, and Dan Spencer, with his wobbling tooth, all stalked into the room.
“Why, hello, pardner,” said Dan Spencer, as he caught sight of Hugh, “how d’ ye do?” They all shook hands.
“We jist drapped in fur a minit, Major,” said Bill Kinneman, “to say hello. Did n’t know yer hed company, or we would n’t hev cum. Heerd you’d got back. Did n’t see nuthin’ of the cattle thieves, I reckon?”
“Nothing,” responded the major, thoughtfully. “I failed. Tell Mr. Horton that I struck the wrong trail, and followed it down through Oklahoma, and on east to the Missouri River, and then to St. Louis, only to be disappointed in the end.”
“Purty danged good nerve, I can tell ye,” said Dan Spencer, “to foller them cussed cattle thieves like the major did. I’m thinkin’ I’d be purty hostill if I had to do it;” his tooth wobbled like the side motion of a fanning-mill.