"How can you tell?" asked Carley. "It looks clear and bright."
"Naw, this is a dark mawnin'. Thet's a cloudy sun. We'll hev snow on an'
off."
"Do you mind bad weather?"
"Me? All the same to me. Reckon, though, I like it cold so I can loaf round
a big fire at night."
"I like a big fire, too."
"Ever camped out?" he asked.
"Not what you'd call the real thing," replied Carley.
"Wal, thet's too bad. Reckon it'll be tough fer you," he went on, kindly.
"There was a gurl tenderfoot heah two years ago an' she had a hell of a
time. They all joked her, 'cept me, an' played tricks on her. An' on her
side she was always puttin' her foot in it. I was shore sorry fer her."
"You were very kind to be an exception," murmured Carley.
"You look out fer Tom Hutter, an' I reckon Flo ain't so darn above layin'
traps fer you. 'Specially as she's sweet on your beau. I seen them together
a lot."
"Yes?" interrogated Carley, encouragingly.
"Kilbourne is the best fellar thet ever happened along Oak Creek. I helped
him build his cabin. We've hunted some together. Did you ever hunt?"
"No."
"Wal, you've shore missed a lot of fun," he said. "Turkey huntin'. Thet's
what fetches the gurls.
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