"--_Enoch's
Diary_.
The Secretary had no intention of waking the strange little village at
night. He thought that, once he had relocated it, he would wait until
dawn before rousing any one. But he had not counted on the village
dogs. These set up such an outcry that, while Enoch leaned quietly
against a rude corral fence waiting for the hullaballoo to cease, the
door of the house nearest opened, and a man came out. He stood for a
moment very deliberately staring at the Secretary, whose polite "Good
morning" could not be heard above the dogs' uproar.
Enoch, with a half grin, dropped his satchel and held up both hands.
The man, half smiling in response, kicked and cursed the dogs into
silence. Then he approached Enoch. He was a small, swarthy chap, clad
in overalls and an undershirt.
"You're a Pueblo Indian?" asked the Secretary.
The Indian nodded. "What you want?"
"I want to buy a horse."
"Where you come from?"
"Off that train that went through a while ago."
"This not Ash Fork," said the Indian. "You make mistake. Ash Fork
that way," jerking his thumb westward. "You pass through Ash Fork."
Enoch nodded. "You sell me a horse?"
"I rent you horse. You leave him at Hillers' in Ash Fork.
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