Two stores, a blacksmith shop, a feed
stable, certain other nondescript buildings, and a few dwellings,
mostly of logs, was all. Probably not more than a total of fifty souls
made permanent residence there. But the teams of ranchers stood in the
street, and a few saddled cow ponies whose listlessness was mostly
assumed. Before one of the general stores a prospector fussed with a
string of pack horses. Directly opposite Briggs' boarding-house stood
a building labeled "Regent Hotel." Hazel could envisage it all with a
half turn of her head.
From this hotel there presently issued a young man dressed in the
ordinary costume of the country--wide hat, flannel shirt, overalls,
boots. He sat down on a box close by the hotel entrance. In a few
minutes another came forth. He walked past the first a few steps,
stopped, and said something. Hazel could not hear the words. The
first man was filling a pipe. Apparently he made no reply; at least,
he did not trouble to look up. But she saw his shoulders lift in a
shrug. Then he who had passed turned square about and spoke again,
this time lifting his voice a trifle. The young fellow sitting on the
box instantly became galvanized into action.
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