You ain't fit." "I know," he pleaded, "but let me see them." Just to satisfy him I passed over his old duds.
"I've been robbed," he cried.
"Well," said I, "what did you expect would happen to you lying around Yuma after midnight with a hole in your head ?" "Where's my coat ?" he asked.
"You had no coat when I picked you up," I replied.
He looked at me mighty suspicious, but didn't say anything more--he wouldn't even answer when I spoke to him.

After he'd eaten a fair meal he fell asleep.

When I came back that evening the bunk was empty and he was gone.
I didn't see him again for two days.

Then I caught sight of him quite a ways off.

He nodded at me very sour, and dodged around the corner of the store.
"Guess he suspicions I stole that old coat of his," thinks I; and afterwards I found that my surmise had been correct.
However, he didn't stay long in that frame of mind.