"I'll get him at the stable and start from
there. Well, wish me luck, Pete--and say! I'll expect you to
make a day of it with me Sunday. No excuses, now. I'm going to
stay over that long, anyhow. Promised myself three good
days--maybe more. A man's got to break away from his work once
in a while. If I didn't, life wouldn't be worth living. I'm
willing to grind--but I've got to have my playtime, too. Say, I
want you to try this rod of mine Sunday. You'll want one like it
yourself, if I'm any good at guessing. Just got it, you
know--it's the one I was talking to yuh about last time I was
down.
"W-ell--I reckon my means of conveyance is ready for me--so long,
Peter, till Sunday. See you at supper, boys."
He hooked a thumb under the shoulder-strap of his basket, pulled
it to a more comfortable position, waved his hand in a farewell,
which included every living thing within sight of him, and went
away up the narrow, winding trail through the sagebrush to the
stable, humming something under his breath with the same impulse
of satisfaction with life which sets a cat purring.
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