"Sure," returned the horseman gently, "and you're welcome to it. Every man has all he needs of his own, I reckon. But I didn't mean it that way; I meant your horse." The stranger looked at him questioningly. "Beg pardon?" he said. "What?" "I do not understand." "Your horse--where is your horse?" "Oh, yes! Certainly--of course--my horse--how stupid of me!" The tone of the man's answer was one of half apology, and he was smiling whimsically now as if at his own predicament, as he continued. "I have no horse. Really, you know, I wouldn't know what to do with one if I had it." "You don't mean to say that you drifted all the way out here from Prescott on foot!" exclaimed the astonished cowboy. The man on the ground looked up at the horseman, and in a droll tone that made the rider his friend, said, while he stretched his long legs painfully: "I like to walk. You see I--ah--fancied it would be good for me, don't you know." The cowboy laughingly considered--trying, as he said afterward, to figure it out. It was clear that this tall stranger was not in search of health, nor did he show any of the distinguishing marks of the tourist. He certainly appeared to be a man of means. He could not be looking for work. He did not seem a suspicious character--quite the contrary--and yet--there was that significant hurried movement as if to escape when the horseman had surprised him. The etiquette of the country forbade a direct question, but-- "Yes," he agreed thoughtfully, "walking comes in handy sometimes. I don't take to it much myself, though." Then he added shrewdly, "You were at the celebration, I reckon." The stranger's voice betrayed quick enthusiasm, but that odd wistfulness crept into his eyes again and he seemed to lose a little of his poise. "Indeed I was," he said. "I never saw anything to compare with it. I've seen all kinds of athletic sports and contests and exhibitions, with circus performances and riding, and that sort of thing, you know, and I've read about such things, of course, but"--and his voice grew thoughtful--"that men ever actually did them--and all in the day's work, as you may say--I--I never dreamed that there _were_ men like that in these days." The cowboy shifted his weight uneasily in the saddle, while he regarded the man on the ground curiously. "She was sure a humdinger of a celebration," he admitted, "but as for the show part I've seen things happen when nobody was thinking anything about it that would make those stunts at Prescott look funny. The horse racing was pretty good, though," he finished, with suggestive emphasis. The other did not miss the point of the suggestion. "I didn't bet on anything," he laughed. "It's funny nobody picked you up on the road out here," the cowboy next offered pointedly. "The folks started home early this morning--and Jim Reid and his family passed me about an hour ago--they were in an automobile. The Simmons stage must have caught up with you somewhere."