Some thought that he was hiding in town, and advised a thorough search before they took to their horses.

The Native Son--he of mixed Irish and Spanish blood--told them with languid certainty that Andy was headed straight for the camp because he would figure that in camp was where they would least expect to find him.
The opinions of the Native Son were usually worth adopting.

In this case, however, it brought them into the street at the very moment when Florence Grace Hallman and two homeseekers had ventured from the hotel in search of them.

Slim and Jack Bates and Cal Emmett saw them in time and shied across the street and into the new barber shop where they sat themselves down and demanded unnecessary hair-cuts and a shampoo apiece, and spied upon their unfortunate fellows through the window while they waited; but the others met the women fairly since it was too late to turn back without making themselves ridiculous.
"I was wondering," began Miss Hallman in her brisk, business tone, "if some of you gentlemen could not help us out in the matter of conveyances.

I have made arrangements for most of my guests, but we simply can't squeeze another one into the rigs I have engaged--and I've engaged every vehicle in town except a wheelbarrow I saw in the back yard of the hotel." "How many are left out ?" asked Weary, since no one else showed any symptoms of speech.
"Oh, not many, thank goodness.