“Oh, Dick! Wasn't he fine?... Say, where's Coconina Forest?”
“It's over across the desert and beyond the Grand Canyon of Arizona. Penetier is tame compared to Coconina. I'm afraid to let you come out there.”
“I don't have to ask you, Mr. Dick,” I replied.
“Lad, I'll need a young fellar bad next summer,” said old Hiram, with twinkling eyes. “One as can handle a rope, an' help tie up lions an' sich.”
“Oh! my bear cub! I'd forgotten him. I wanted to take him home.”
“Wal, thar weren't no sense in thet, youngster, fer you couldn't do it. He was a husky cub.”
“I hate to give up my mustang, too. Dick, have you heard of the Greaser?”
“Not yet, but he'll be trailing into Holston before long.”
Jim Williams removed his pipe, and puffed a cloud of white smoke.
“Ken, I shore ain't fergot Greaser,” he drawled with his slow smile. “Hev you any pertickler thing you want did to him?”