A Rustler's Conscience 145 



in the West usually enjoyed little variety 

 in his bill of fare, and we fancied that our 

 fresh trout and our flapjacks with maple 

 syrup would give an agreeable surprise to 

 his stomach. He accepted (what traveller 

 would not?), and fell to his work with a 

 good appetite. After the meal he lit his 

 pipe, dropped wearily on the earth before 

 the fire and smoked for some minutes, 

 seeming to take comfort in our cheery talk, 

 but offering few remarks of his own and 

 replying with hardly more than mono- 

 syllables to our inquiries. When his pipe 

 was out he arose and left us abruptly, 

 striding across the meadow in the direction 

 of his horses. 



Toot, who had watched him as he dis- 

 appeared in the twilight, said in a low 

 voice, " There's something wrong with that 

 rustler. What's he doing with the Injun 

 outfit ? And did you notice them ponies ? 

 That's pretty healthy talk to give a man 

 about driving such stock as that all the 

 way from Colorado to sell in Montana. 

 Ain't it? Them's Injun ponies, and you 

 bet he's played it low on an Injun some- 

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