"Huh!" laughed Hank, "he must know that when that there young chap has been in the mountings a few days he'll eat mulligan 'n' spotted pup 'n' bacon with the best of 'em. His will be a good, lively comin' appetite--but huh! I should hate mightily t' have t' feed 'im. Wonder if Wishin' has packed some bibs along 'n' silk socks 'n' hand-warmers! Huh!" When Ross reentered the cabin he found Weston staring out of the doorway, his arm stretched by his side. "Guess you didn't sleep much," remarked Hank noisily gathering up the dishes. "All I wanted to," returned Weston shortly. Hank piled the dishes into a pan and poured boiling water over them. "M-m," he soliloquized, "all the time I was lookin' at him I was thinkin' I'd seen that young Jones before. M-m--where, I wonder?" No one answered, and he washed dishes in silence while Ross returned to his work and Weston lay staring out-of-doors. The following day Ross saw his patient depart on the stage headed toward Cody, and prepared to take the next one himself in the opposite direction. When he assisted Weston out of the door of the dugout, he knew exactly as much about him as when he followed his prostrate figure in at the same door three weeks before--and no more, unless the name be excepted. Hank watched the stage off with a scowl, and then departed from his usual custom of cautious speech, where possible customers were concerned. "Guess that feller must 'a' hailed from som'ers beside Wyoming," he grumbled. "Now, a Wyoming chap would 'a' paid his bill, or if he was on the hog's back, he'd owned up and passed his promise. But that there maverick never even said, 'Thank ye,' to you or me; and here you're knocked out of three weeks' work along of him, to say nothin' of the work day and night you've put in on 'im. Well, good riddance; 'tain't no ways likely we'll set eyes on 'im again." CHAPTER V A MAN WHO NEEDED BRACING UP THE road to Miners' Camp from Meeteetse, forty-five miles long, follows the Grey Bull to its junction with Wood River. Thence it wanders along through miles of fertile ranch lands; then, rising among the black foot-hills, up, up, it winds across the precipitous face of Jo-Jo Hill, and plunges among the snow-crowned Shoshones, crowded nearer and yet nearer to Wood River until finally there is but room for the narrow track and the narrow stream at the bottom of the deep canon. This was the road which Ross traveled the day following Weston's departure for Cody, and traveled in increasing discomfort. The further they advanced among the mountains, the colder it became, until, finally, Ross was obliged to desert the high seat beside Bill Travers, the driver, and seek shelter inside the stage, but not until he had learned from Bill that there was no hotel in Miners' Camp. In talking with Hank he had taken it for granted that there was a lodging house of some description and so had asked no questions on the subject.