I looked up.

It was Johnson.
He drew from his pocket a Spanish dollar.

"I reckoned," he said, cheerfully, "I'd run again ye somewhar some time.

My old woman told me to give ye that when I did, and say that she 'didn't keep no hotel.' But she allowed she'd keep the letter, and has spelled it out to the chillern." Here was the opportunity I had longed for to touch Johnson's pride and affection in the brave but unprotected girl.

"I want to talk to you about Miss Johnson," I said, eagerly.
"I reckon so," he said, with an exasperating smile.