" She laughed a little
hysterically. "I expect I'm hungry and thirsty, too, though I
hadn't noticed it before."
He whirled to his saddle, and had the canteen thongs unloosed in
a moment. While she drank he rummaged from his saddle-bags some
sandwiches of jerky and a flask of whiskey. She ate the
sandwiches, he the while watching her with amused sympathy in his
swarthy countenance.
"You ain't half-bad at the chuck-wagon, Miss Messiter," he told
her.
She stopped, the sandwich part way to her mouth. "I don't
remember your face. I've met so many people since I came to the
Lazy D. Still, I think I should remember you."
He immediately relieved of duty her quasi apology. "You haven't
seen my face before," he laughed, and, though she puzzled over
the double meaning that seemed to lurk behind his words and amuse
him, she could not find the key to it.
It was too dark to make out his features at all clearly, but she
was sure she had seen him before or somebody that looked very
much like him.
"Life on the range ain't just what y'u can call exciting," he
continued, "and when a young lady fresh from back East drops
among us while sixguns are popping, breaks up a likely feud and
mends right neatly all the ventilated feudists it's a corollary
to her fun that's she is going to become famous.
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