D'you know it ?" "Never been further north than Brownsville." "Couldn't name me someone that's travelled about, I s'pose ?" "Old Gary Peters knows every rock within three day's riding.

He keeps the blacksmith shop across the way." "So?
Thanks; I'll look him up." Buck Daniels found the blacksmith seated on a box before his place of business; it was a slack time for Gary Peters and he consoled himself for idleness by chewing the stem of an unlighted corn-cob, whose bowl was upside down.

His head was pulled down and forward as if by the weight of his prodigious sandy moustache, and he regarded a vague horizon with misty eyes.
"Seen you comin' out of O'Brien's," said the blacksmith, as Buck took possession of a nearby box.

"What's the news ?" "Ain't any news," responded Buck dejectedly.

"Too much talk; no news." "That's right," nodded Gary Peters.