The interior of
the store proved to be no different from the general country store
anywhere. The proprietor was very busy and occupied and important and
interested in selling a two-dollar bill of goods to a chance prospector,
which was well, for this was the storekeeper's whole life, and he had in
defence of his soul to make his occupations filling. Bob bought a cigar
and went out.
Next he looked in at one of the saloons. It was an ill-smelling, cheap
box, whose sole ornaments were advertising lithographs. Four men played
cards. They hardly glanced at the newcomer. Bob deciphered Forest
Reserve badges on three of them.
As he emerged from this joint, his eyes a trifle dazzled by the light,
he made out drawn up next the elevated platform a buckboard containing a
single man. As his pupils contracted he distinguished such details as a
wiry, smart little team, a man so fat as almost to fill the seat, a
moon-like, good-natured face, a vest open to disclose a vast white
shirt, "Hullo!" the stranger rumbled in a great voice. "Any of my boys
in there?"
"Don't believe I know your boys," replied Bob pleasantly.
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