"Anything I can cook and eat," replied Enoch, dismounting stiffly.
"What kind of camp is this?"
"Navajo. What your name?"
"Smith. What's yours?"
"John Red Sun. How much you pay for grub?"
"Depends on what kind and how much. Which way are you folks going?"
"We take horses to the railroad," replied John Red Sun. "Me and my
brother, that's all, so we haven't got much grub. You come over by the
fire." Enoch dropped the reins over Pablo's head and followed to the
fire. An Indian, who was boiling coffee at the little blaze, looked up
with interest in his black eyes.
"Good evening," said Enoch. "My name is Smith."
The Indian nodded. "You like a cup of coffee? Just done."
"Thanks, yes." Enoch sat down gratefully by the fire. The desert
night was sharp.
"Where you going, Mr. Smith?" asked John Red Sun.
"I'm an Easterner, a tenderfoot," replied Enoch. "I am very tired and
I thought I'd like to rest in the desert. I was on the train when the
idea struck me, and I got off just as I was. I bought the horse and
these clothes from an Indian."
"Where you going?" repeated John's brother. "To see Injun villages?"
"No, I don't think so. I just want to be by myself."
"It's foolish for tenderfoot to go alone in desert," said John.
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