“It’s like old times to have you here,” said the brakie. “You used to play this line when you jumped from coast to coast.”
“Sure,” said Lefty Joe, and he scowled at the mountains on either side of the pass. The train was gathering speed and the peaks lurched eastward in a confused, ragged procession. “And a durned hard ride it’s been many a time.”
“Kind of queer to see you,” continued the brakie. “Heard you was rising in the world ”
He caught the face of the other with a rapid side glance, but Lefty Joe was sufficiently concealed by the dark.
“Heard you were the main guy with a whole crowd behind you,” went on the brakie.
“Yeh?”
“Sure. Heard you was riding the cushions, and all that.”
“Yeh?”
“But I guess it was all bunk; here you are back again, anyway.”
“Yep,” agreed Lefty.
The brakie scratched his head, for the silence of the tramp convinced him that there had been, after all, a good deal of truth in the rumor. He ran back on another tack and slipped about Lefty.
“I never laid much on what they said,” he averred. “I know you, Lefty; you can do a lot, but when it comes to leading a whole gang, like they said you was, and all that—well, I knew it was a lie. Used to tell ‘em that.”
“You talked foolish, then,” burst out Lefty suddenly. “It was all straight.”
The brakie could hear the click of his companion’s teeth at the period to this statement, as though he regretted his outburst.
“Well, I’ll be hanged,” murmured the brakie innocently.
Ordinarily, Lefty was not easily lured, but this night he apparently was in the mood for talk.
“Kennebec Lou, the Clipper, and Suds. Them and a lot more. They was all with me; they was all under me; I was the Main Guy!”
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