Lem helped Wade unpack and carry his outfit into the cabin. It contained one room, the corner of which was filled with blocks and slabs of pine, evidently left there after the construction of the cabin, and meant for fire-wood. The ample size of the stone fireplace attested to the severity of the winters.
"Real sawed boards on the floor!" exclaimed Lem, meaning to impress the new-comer. "I call this a plumb good bunk."
"Much too good for me," replied Wade.
"Wal, I'll look after your hosses," said Lem. "I reckon you'll fix up your bunk. Take my hunch an' ask Miss Collie to find you some furniture an' sich like. She's Ole Bill's daughter, an' she makes up fer--fer--wal, fer a lot we hev to stand. I'll fetch the boys over later."
"Do you smoke?" asked Wade. "I've somethin' fine I fetched up from Leadville."
"Smoke! Me? I'll give you a hoss right now for a cigar. I git one onct a year, mebbe."
"Here's a box I've been packin' for long," replied Wade, as he handed it up to Billings. "They're Spanish, all right. Too rich for my blood!"
A box of gold could not have made that cowboy's eyes shine any brighter.
"Whoop-ee!" he yelled. "Why, man, you're like the fairy in the kid's story! Won't I make the outfit wild? Aw, I forgot. Thar's only Jim an' Blud left. Wal, I'll divvy with them. Sure, Wade, you hit me right. I was dyin' fer a real smoke. An' I reckon what's mine is yours."
Then he strode out of the cabin, whistling a merry cowboy tune.