He did not ask Oscar if he were ready to start; and, in fact, he did not seem to care. He hitched the mule to the wagon (that was an act of condescension that Oscar did not look for); and, having saddled his pony, rode off, leaving the boy to do as he pleased about following him.
He acted the same way when they went into camp that night; and, during the whole of the next day, he never spoke a word to Oscar.
He was sociable enough with the stockmen whose ranches they passed along the road, but not a syllable did he utter for his employer’s benefit until he was ready to make another halt for the night. Then he reined up in front of a dug-out, and turned in his saddle to say:
“Pilgrim, if ye’d like to sleep under a white man’s roof onct more afore ye git to the hills, here’s yer chance. I reckon mebbe ye’d best do it, kase why, we leave the trail fur good bright an’ arly to-morrer mornin’.”
Then, without waiting to hear what the boy had to say to his proposition, he raised his voice and called out:
“Halloo, thar, Ike! Have ye went into yer den, like a prairie-dog in winter, an’ pulled the hole in arter ye? If ye aint, come outen that. I’ve brought ye a tenderfoot fur a lodger.”
The dug-out looked like a mound of earth, about thirty feet long and half as wide; but that it was a dwelling was evident, from the fact that a piece of stovepipe projected from the roof, the thick cloud of smoke that rose from it indicating that a fire had just been started in the stove below.
A flight of rude steps, not made of boards, but dug out of the hard earth, led down to the entrance, in which hung an army blanket that did duty as a door. Taken altogether, it was a very forlorn-looking place. There was not another human habitation in sight.
As the guide ceased speaking, an answering whoop, uttered in a stentorian voice, came from the inside; and presently the blanket was raised and the owner of the voice appeared in the doorway.
He was a tall, brawny man, roughly dressed, but still rather neater in appearance than the other dwellers in dug-outs whom Oscar had seen along the trail.
His hair and whiskers looked as though they were combed occasionally, and it was plain that he had sometimes washed his face, for when he came to the door he brought with him a towel, which he was using vigorously.