Pinkey took a triangular piece of glass from between the logs in the bunk-house and regarded himself steadfastly in the bit of broken mirror.
He murmured finally: "I ain't no prize baby, but if I jest had a classy set of teeth I wouldn't be bad lookin'."
He replaced the mirror in the crack and sauntered down to the cook-shack where he seated himself on the door-sill. The chef was singing as if he meant it: "Ah, I Have Sighed to Rest Me Deep in the Silent Grave."
Pinkey interrupted: "How do you git to work to get teeth, Mr. Hicks, if they ain't no dentist handy?"
Like Mr. Stott, no question could be put to Mr. Hicks for which he could not find an answer. He now replied promptly: "Well, there's two ways: you can send to Mungummery-Ward and have a crate sent out on approval, and keep tryin' till you find a set that fits, or you can take the cast off your gooms yourself, send it on and have 'em hammer you out some to order."
"Is that so? What kind of stuff do they use to make the cast of your gooms of?"
"Some uses putty, some uses clay, but I believe they generally recommend plaster of Paris. It's hard, and it's cheap, and it stays where it's put."
A thoughtful silence followed; then Pinkey got up and joined Wallie, who was sitting on the top pole of the corral, smoking moodily.
The "dudes" were at target practice with 22's and six-shooters, having been persuaded finally not to use Mr. Canby's range as a background. They now all walked with a swagger and seldom went to their meals without their weapons.
Pinkey blurted out suddenly: "I wisht I'd died when I was little!"
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothin'."
It was plain that he wished to be interrogated further, but Wallie, who was thinking of Helene Spenceley and her indifference to him, was in no mood to listen to other people's troubles.
After another period of reflection Pinkey asked abruptly: "Do you believe in signs?"
To which Wallie replied absently: "Can't say I do. Why?"
"If there's anything in signs I ought to be turrible jealous--the way my eyebrows grow together."
"Aren't you?" indifferently.
"Me--jealous? Nobody could make me jealous, especially a worman."
"You're lucky!" Wallie spoke with unnecessary emphasis. "It's an uncomfortable sensation."
Pinkey shifted uneasily and picked a bit of bark off the corral pole.
"Don't it look kinda funny that Miss Eyester would take any in'trist in Old Man Penrose? A girl like her wouldn't care nothin' about his money, would she?"
Wallie looked dour as he answered: "You never can tell--maybe." He had been asking himself the same question about Miss Spenceley, whom he had seen rather frequently of late with Canby.