"'S this way," said the constable, leaning forward and waving his cigar. "You're fren' of mine--sure thing. 'S af'ernoon now, but I was plumb fooled this mornin'. Y' know i's af'ernoon now. Thought you was the guy I'm lookin' for. H'overlan' Red--bum--tram'. Wire from Loshangeles to upperan' him if he shows up here. See?"
"You're not quite clear to me," replied Winthrop. "But never mind about apprehending any one. Let's talk about this glorious prospect of sand, silence, and solitude. I feel like a fallen angel. Never mind about arresting anybody. Life is too short. Let's talk of roses."
"Roshes! Huh!" sniggered the constable. "You're kin' of sof, ain't you? Roshes nothin'! I'm goin' talk 'bout business. It's business, my business to talk 'bout it, see? 'T ain't your business. You c'n lissen, an' when I get through, then you c'n talk roshes."
"But what is your business?" asked Winthrop, with an indifference that he did not feel.
"S-s-s-h-h! I'm cons'able. Tha's on the quiet. Thousand dollars rewar' f'r th' appr'enshun of 'Verlan' Red. Thought you was him--hic--hee! hee!"
"Please don't laugh like that. It hurts my feelings," said Winthrop. "It is bad enough to be taken for a--er--tramp."
"Nobody's feelin's--pologishe. '_Course_ you ain' him! You're jus' a li'l' ole ten'erfoot--perfec'ly harmless li'l' ole ten'erfoot."
"Nope. 'Nough's 'nough. 'S time f'r dinner."
"Nearly. Well, if you flatly refuse to drink my health, I'll have to drink it alone, and that's rather egotistical, isn't it?"
"Never. B' Gosh! You're sport. Funny li'l' ole ten'erfoot--perf'ly harmless. Sure, I'll drink all th' health you got, 'n then go home--dinner."
"One will be sufficient, I think," said Winthrop.
"Sufficen' wha'?" And the constable leered cunningly.
"To drown all pangs. Well, here's pleasant dreams."
Far down the line came the faint thrill of wheels and the distant, clear-cut blast of a locomotive. The local freight from Los Angeles was whistling for the "block."
Winthrop glanced at his watch, then at the constable. "What train is that?" asked the Easterner.
The constable's eyelids drooped, then opened languidly. "Railro' train, 'f course." And he slid forward to his elbow and thence to the bench. Presently he snored.