Field was younger, probably
about Enoch's own age. He was as tall as Mackey but much heavier. He
was smooth shaven and ruddy of skin, with a heavy thatch of curly black
hair and fine brown eyes. His clothing was a replica of his partner's.
Mackay gave his whole attention to the preparation of the supper, while
Field unpacked Pablo and hobbled him.
"You're just in time for a darn good meal, Mr. Smith," said Field.
"Mack is a great cook. If he was as good a miner as he is cook--"
"Dry up, Curly, and get Mr. Smith's cup and plate for him. We're shy
on china. Grub's ready, folks. Draw up."
They ate sitting in the sand, with their backs against the rocks, their
feet toward the fire, for the evening was cold. Curly had not
exaggerated Mack's ability. The hot biscuits, baked in a dutch oven,
the fried potatoes, stewed tomatoes, the bacon, the coffee were each
deliciously prepared. Enoch ate as though half starved, then helped to
wash the dishes. After this was finished, the three established
themselves with their pipes before the fire.
"Now," said Mack, "we're in a condition to consider your proposition,
Mr. Smith. Just where was you aiming for?"
"I have a two or three weeks' vacation on my hands," replied Enoch,
"and I'm pretty well knocked up with office work.
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