"No one like Milt!" responded the other woman, heartily.

"Good day there -- you Milt Dale!" called the first speaker.
"When you git away from these lazy men come over."

Dale never refused a service, and that was why his
infrequent visits to Pine were wont to be prolonged beyond
his own pleasure.

Presently Beasley strode down the street, and when about to
enter the store he espied Dale.

"Hullo there, Milt!" he called, cordially, as he came
forward with extended hand. His greeting was sincere, but
the lightning glance he shot over Dale was not born of his
pleasure. Seen in daylight, Beasley was a big, bold, bluff
man, with strong, dark features. His aggressive presence
suggested that he was a good friend and a bad enemy.

Dale shook hands with him.

"How are you, Beasley?"

"Ain't complainin', Milt, though I got more work than I can
rustle. Reckon you wouldn't take a job bossin' my
sheep-herders?"

"Reckon I wouldn't," replied Dale. "Thanks all the same."

"What's goin' on up in the woods?"