Me tell.'" "Him go back and--" The door of the bunk house opened suddenly and a cowboy stalked in, a lean, dark man, rather short and slim, with eyes of that peculiar light, slaty gray that have a staring effect; apparently no depth to them.
These, with heavy overhanging brows and an inclination to sneer, gave him a forbidding appearance.

His hat and slicker glistened with water.
At his entrance Injun ceased speaking abruptly.
"Gee, I got soaked in that rain," said the newcomer.

"Stopped at th' Cut on my way back from th' Junction.

Th' railroad hands got paid, to-day, an' they're raisin' cain.

Wisht I'd stayed there, 'stead o' gettin' soaked." "I wish you had, too," Bill Jordan murmured to himself, unheard by the other.
This puncher, Henry Dorgan, was a man who was vaguely disliked on the ranch, with nothing in particular on which to hang the cause of the feeling.