Often they had fallen out with each other, for Duff was stormy of temper and had a habit of letting himself swing out upon its gusts of passion, reckless of consequences; but he was ever the one to offer amends and to seek renewal of good relations.

He had few friends, and so he clung the more closely to those he had.

At such times the other would wait in cool, good-tempered but determined aloofness for his friend's return.
"You can chew your cud till you're cool again," he would say when the outbreak would arise.

But invariably their differences were composed and their friendship remained unbroken.
The men sat in the buckboard, leaning forward with hunched shoulders, swaying easily to the pitching of the vehicle as it rattled along the trail which, especially where it passed over the round topped ridges, was thickly strewn with stones.

Before them, now on the trail and now ranging wide over the prairie, ran a beautiful black and white English setter.
"Great dog that, Sandy," said Duff.