Partners

"Hello, old man," Tommy greeted cheerfully. "How goes it?"

If it occurred to either of them that the last time they faced each
other it had been in hot anger and in earnest endeavor to inflict bodily
damage, they were not embarrassed by that recollection, nor did either
man hold rancor. Their hands gripped sturdily. It seemed to Thompson,
indeed, that a face had never been so welcome. He did not want to sit
alone and think. Even apart from that he was uncommonly glad to see
Tommy Ashe.

"It doesn't go much at all," he said. "As a matter of fact, I just got
back to Lone Moose to-night after being away for weeks."

"Same here," Tommy responded. "I've been trapping. Heard you'd gone to
Pachugan, but thought it was only for supplies. I got in to my own
diggings to-night, and the shack was so infernally cold and dismal I
mushed on down here on the off chance that you'd have a fire and
wouldn't mind chinning awhile. Lord, but a fellow surely gets fed up
with his own company, back here. At least I do."

Thompson awoke to hospitable formalities.

"Have you had supper?" he asked.

"Stopped and made tea about sundown," Tommy replied. "Thanks just the
same. Gad, but it was cold this afternoon. The air fairly crackled."

"Yes," Thompson agreed. "It was very cold."

He drew a stool up to the stove and sat down. Tommy got out his pipe and
began whittling shavings of tobacco off a plug.