Monty was in the position of a man who dips into the middle of a story and finds it something of a jumble because he does not know what went before. He asked a good many questions, so that the telling lasted through supper and the dishwashing afterwards. By the time they were ready to sit down and smoke with the comfortable assurance that further exertion would not be necessary that night, Monty was pretty well up-to-date on the affairs of Gary Marshall and Patricia Connolly, up to and including the arrival of James Blaine Hawkins at Johnnywater and his hurried departure that morning. “And yuh-all say the feller seen something,” Monty drawled meditatively after a minute or two of silence. “Did he tell yuh what it was he saw?” “No, except that he thought it was a man who had slipped into the cabin when he wasn’t looking. But it was the cat that really put him on the run. Seems he hated to see a cat unless I saw it too.” Monty looked up quickly. In Gary’s tone he had caught a certain reluctance to speak of the man which James Blaine Hawkins declared he saw. He was willing enough to explain all about James Blaine Hawkins and the cat, and he had laughed when he told how he had pretended not to hear the Voice. But of the possible apparition of a man Gary did not like to talk. “Tell the truth, now--ain’t yuh scared to stay there alone?” Monty’s question was anxious. Gary shrugged his shoulders and blew a smoke ring, watching it drift up toward the ceiling. “Being scared or not being scared makes no difference whatever. I’m going to stay. For a while, anyway.” “I wisht you’d tell me what for,” Monty urged uneasily. “A man that can hold down the position and earn the money yuh did in pictures kain’t afford to set around in Johnnywater Cañon lookin’ after two shoats and a dozen or fifteen hens. I don’t agree with Miss Connolly at all. I’d be mighty proud if I could do what I’ve seen yuh-all do in pictures. Your actin’ was real--and I reckon that’s what puts a man at the top. I know the top-notchers all act so good you kain’t ketch ’em at it. Yuh just seem to be lookin’ in on ’em whilst they’re livin’.” “The best acting I’ve done,” chuckled Gary, “was last night and this morning. I was scared to death that the pinto cat would come and hop up on my lap like she usually does. I’d have had a merry heck of a time acting like she wasn’t there. But I put it over--enough to send him breezing down the cañon, anyway.” “You’re liable to have trouble with that feller yet,” warned Monty. “If he got an agreement out of Miss Connolly, he ain’t liable to give up the idea of holding her to it. Have yuh-all got a gun?”