A very little more was in the flasks of the men.
I remembered the sundown attack of the night before, and anticipated it this time by crawling to the trench before sunset.

I crept into a place alongside of Laban.

He was busy chewing tobacco, and did not notice me.
For some time I watched him, fearing that when he discovered me he would order me back.

He would take a long squint out between the wagon wheels, chew steadily a while, and then spit carefully into a little depression he had made in the sand.
"How's tricks ?" I asked finally.

It was the way he always addressed me.
"Fine," he answered.