As they drew closer the
other man swung his mount far to one side. Buck chuckled softly,
seeing that the other evidently desired to pass without being
recognized. The chuckle died when the stranger changed direction and
rode straight for Buck. The latter pulled his horse to a quick stop
and turned to face the on-comer. He made sure that his six-gun was
loose in the holster, for it was always well to be prepared for the
unusual in these chance meetings in the mountain-desert.
"Hey, Buck!" called the galloping horseman.
The hand of Daniels dropped away from his revolver, for he recognized
the voice of Hal Purvis, who swiftly ranged alongside.
"What's the dope?" asked Buck, producing his tobacco and the
inevitable brown papers.
"Jest lookin' the landscape over an' scoutin' around for news,"
answered Purvis.
"Pick up anything?"
"Yeh. Ran across some tenderfoot squatters jest out of Elkhead."
Buck grunted and lighted his cigarette.
"Which you've been sort of scarce around the outfit lately," went on
Purvis.
"I'm headin' for the bunch now," said Buck.
"D'you bring along that gun of mine I left at your house?"
"Didn't think of it."
"Let's drop back to your house an' get it.
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