"
"By the way, what brings Drew over here every month?"
"Never asked him. I was brung up not to ask questions."
The stranger accepted this subtle rebuke with such an open, infectious
laugh that the shepherd smiled in the very act of spitting at the stone,
with the result that he missed it by whole inches.
"I'll answer some of the questions you haven't asked, then. My name is
Anthony Bard and I'm out here seeing the mountains and having a bully
time in general with my rod and gun."
The sad eyes regarded him without interest, but Bard swung from his
horse and advanced with outstretched hand.
"I may be about here for a few days and we might as well get acquainted,
eh? I'll promise to lay off the questions."
"I'm Logan."
"Glad to know you, Mr. Logan."
"Same t'you. Don't happen to have no fine-cut about you?"
"No. Sorry."
"So'm I. Ran out an' now all I've got is plug. Kind of hard on the teeth
an' full of molasses."
"I've some pipe tobacco, though, which might do."
He produced a pouch which Logan opened, taking from it a generous pinch.
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