CHAPTER XII FINESSE "A man talks because he's drunk or lonesome; a girl talks because that's her way of takin' exercise." This was a maxim of Buck Daniels, and Buck Daniels knew a great deal about women, as many a school marm and many a rancher's daughter of the mountain-desert could testify. Also Buck Daniels said of women: "It ain't what you say to 'em so much as the tune you put it to." Now he sat this day in O'Brien's hotel dining-room. It was the lazy and idle hour between three and four in the afternoon, and since the men of the mountain-desert eat promptly at six, twelve, and six, there was not a soul in the room when he entered. Nor was there a hint of eating utensils on the tables. Nevertheless Buck Daniels was not dismayed. He selected a corner-table by instinct and smote upon the surface with the flat of his hand. It made a report like the spat of a forty-five; heavy footsteps approached, a door flung open, and a cross-eyed slattern stood in the opening. At the sight of Buck Daniels sitting with his hands on his hips and his sombrero pushed back to a good-natured distance on his head the lady puffed with rage. "What in hell d'you think this is?" bellowed this gentle creature, and the tone echoed heavily back from all four walls. "You're three hours late and you get no chuck here. On your way, stranger!" Buck Daniels elevated himself slowly from the chair and stood at his full height. With a motion fully as deliberate he removed his sombrero and bowed to such a depth that the brim of the hat brushed the floor. "Lady," he said humbly, "I was thinkin' that some gent run this here eatin' place. Which if you'll excuse me half a minute I'll ramble outside and sluice off some of the dust. If I'd known you was here I wouldn't of thought of comin' in here like this." The lady with the defective eyes glared fiercely at him. Her judgment wavered two ways. Her first inclination was to hold that the fellow was jibing at her covertly, and she followed her original impulse far enough to clasp a neighboring sugar-bowl in a large, capable hand. A second and more merciful thought entered her brain and stole slowly through it, like a faint echo in a great cave. "You don't have to make yourself pretty to talk to me," she said thoughtfully. "But if you're here for chow you're too late." "Ma'am," said Buck Daniels instantly, "when I come in here I was hungry enough to eat nails; but I'll forget about chuck if you'll sit down an' chin with me a while." The large hand of the cross-eyed lady stole out once more and rested upon the sugar-bowl. "D'you mind sayin' that over agin?" she queried. "Lonesomeness is worse'n hunger," said Buck Daniels, and he met her gaze steadily with his black eyes. The hand released the sugar-bowl once more; something resembling colour stole into the brown cheeks of the maiden. She said, relentingly: "Maybe you been off by yourse'f mining, stranger?" Buck Daniels drew a long breath.