I marched down-stairs, whistling, with my hands in my pockets and my chin in the air, and told the landlord to serve dinner an hour earlier than usual, and to make it a good one.
He looked at me with a curious mixture of wonder and amusement.

"Dinner," he drawled calmly, "has been over for three hours; but I guess we can give yuh some supper any time after five." I suppose he looked upon me as the rankest kind of a tenderfoot.

I calculated the time of my torture till I might, without embarrassing explanations, partake of a much-needed repast, and went to the door; waiting was never my long suit, and I had thoughts of getting outside and taking a look around.

At the second step I changed my mind--there was that deceptive mud to reckon with.
So from the doorway I surveyed all of Montana that lay between me and the sky-line, and decided that my bets would remain on California.

The sky was a dull slate, tumbled into what looked like rain-clouds and depressing to the eye.