The young fellow laughed noisily, and hooked his arm through his companion's gaunt elbow. Enoch glanced down at the grimy, broken-nailed, disreputable hand on his arm, and a faint flush showed itself under the silvery stubble on his cheeks. "By gum, this town's a daisy," said the stranger, sniffing the honey-laden breeze appreciatively and glancing out over the sea of wild flowers that waved and shimmered under the California sun; "nice quiet little place--eh?" "Thee hears all the noise there is," answered Enoch gravely. The young fellow gave a yell of delight and bent over as if the shaft of Enoch's wit had struck him in some vital part. Then he disengaged his arm and writhed in an agony of mirth. "Holy Moses!" he gasped, "that's good. Hit 'im again, uncle." Enoch stood still and looked at him, a mild, contemptuous sympathy twinkling in his blue eyes. "Is thee looking for a quiet place?" he asked. The newcomer reduced his hilarity to an intermittent chuckle, and resumed his affectionate grasp on Enoch's arm. "That's about the size of it, uncle. I've knocked around a good deal, and I'm suffering from religious prostration. I'm looking for a nice, quiet, healthy place to take a rest--to recooperate my morals, so to speak. Good climate, good water, good society. Everything they don't have in--some places. What's the city tax on first-class residence property close in?" "I think thee'll find it within thy means," said Enoch dryly. "Has thee a family?" "Well, you might say--yes," rejoined the stranger, "that is, I'm married. My wife's not very well. I want to build a seven by nine residence on a fashionable street and send for her. I'm going to draw up the plans and specifications and bid on the contract myself, and I think by rustling the foreman I can get everything but the telephone and the hot water in before she gets here. Relic of the ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay?" he asked, pointing to a vacant store building across the grass-grown street; "or bought up by the government, maybe, to keep out competition in the post-office business--hello, is this where you hang out?" Enoch turned into the combined store and post-office, and the stranger stood on the platform, bestowing his tobacco-stained smile generously upon the bystanders. "Thee'll find the hotel a little further up the street," said Enoch; "there may be no one about; I think I saw Isaac and Esther Penthorn driving toward Maravilla this afternoon. But they'll be back before dark. Thee can make thyself at home." "You're right I can," assented the newcomer with emphasis; "I see you've caught on to my disposition. Isaac and Esther will find me as domestic as a lame cat. Be it ever so homely there's no place like hum. By-by, uncle; see you later." He went up the street, walking as jauntily as his burden would permit, and Enoch looked after with a lean, whimsical smile. "Thee seems to have a good deal of cheek," he reflected, as he emptied the mail-bag, "but thee's certainly cheerful."