“Huh!” exclaimed the young man. “What’s he aimin’ to do, make a fence jumper out of that cayuse?” “Horse is jest a mite skittish,” said Budd mildly. He opened a fresh box of tomatoes and began packing the cans to the shelf. Halfway, he stopped to observe. “Horses are plumb like women that a way. Purty, but skittish.” “Yeah,” said the young man, suddenly looking harassed. “Ain’t it the solemn an’ miserable truth?” He took off his Stetson and scratched his flaming thatch. By no means could he be called handsome, with his pugnacious chin and nose, his slate-gray eyes and his gaunt, weather-worn frame. It seemed as if he might have been recently subjected to an illness, for he seemed a little nervous and finely drawn. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I’ll tell a man it’s so. First you’re it and then you ain’t.” His eyes were fixed on a couple that moved in and out of the trees. Budd chuckled at the tomato cans and blandly asked, “What’d you say, Bill?” “First you’re it, and then next thing the earth ain’t big enough to hold you.” He wrinkled his nose in surprise. “How’d you know my first monnicker?” “Heard a gal call you by it,” said Budd. “Huh! You won’t hear her callin’ me that no more. Oh, no, she don’t know I’m a human bein’ these days.” He was talking as if half to himself, still keeping his slate-gray eyes fixed on the couple. They had advanced from the main road and were twining around the wagons and fires--a sturdy girl and a tall man in chaps. “Huh,” he muttered. Then again: “Huh. Gimme a sack of tobacco, Budd. What road do I take out o’ this country? South, I mean.” “Leavin’?” queried Budd. “Well, jest keep to the main way and you’ll strike Klamath by’n by.” “Uhuh,” said Bill. He rolled a cigarette, licked it and reached for a match. “Thanks.” He leaned against the counter and drew a mouthful of smoke. Budd saw his face turn perfectly bland and cheerful. There was a gay burst of laughter and a man’s short speech. The couple came in the door. The girl, foremost, stopped short at sight of Bill, looked at him and through him; her smile disappeared and a color came to her cheeks. Bill drew a deep draft of smoke and spoke to Budd as if continuing the conversation. “Yeah, first thing in the mornin’, I guess. This country don’t strike me so much. Guess you’d better lay aside a can o’ them tomatoes and some bacon. I’ll be back for the duffle later.” “Don’t let me interfere with your business,” said the girl haughtily. “Sam and I are only visiting.”