"This is for a new hat," he said, and the next time, "This is for a box at the theater." The boy, with his gains in the circle of his left arm, was desperately absorbed.

No smile, no jest was possible to him.
Mose felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning, found himself face to face with the small man who had touched his hat to the woman in the carriage.

The stranger's countenance was stern in its outlines, and his military cut of beard added to his grimness, but his eyes were surrounded by fine lines of good humour.
"Stranger, I'd like a word with you." Mose followed him to a corner, supposing him to be a man with mines to sell, or possibly a confidence man.
"Stranger, where you from ?" "From the Snake country," replied Mose.
"What's your little game here ?" Mose was angered at his tone.

"None of your business." The older man flushed, and the laugh went out of his eyes.

"I'll make it my business," he said grimly.