Again silence fell, and remained unbroken until Graham suddenly sprang to his feet, and with "That's him now! I could tell that old buckboard if I was in my grave!" hurried on coat and hat and disappeared into the night. A minute more and the door through which he had passed opened slowly, and the figure of a small boy, wrapped like an Indian in a big blanket, stepped timidly inside and stood blinking in the light.
In anticipation of a very different arrival the housekeeper had risen to her feet, and now in surprise, arms akimbo, she stood looking curiously at the stranger. In this land at this time the young of every other animal native thereto was common, but a child, a white child, was a novelty indeed. Many a cow-puncher, bachelor among bachelors, could testify that it had been years since he had seen the like. But Ma Graham was not a bachelor, and in her the maternal instinct, though repressed, was strong. It was barely an instant before she was at the little lad's side, unwinding the blanket with deft hands.
"Who be you, anyway, and where'd you come from?" she exclaimed.
The child observed her gravely.
"Benjamin Blair's my name. I came with the man."
The husk was off the lad ere this, and the woman was rubbing his small hands vigorously.
"Cold, ain't you? Come right over to the fire!" herself leading the way. "And hungry--I'll bet you're hungrier than a wolf!"
The lad nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
The woman straightened up and looked down at her charge.
"Of course you are. All little boys are hungry." She cast a challenging glance around the group of interested spectators.
"Fix the fire, one of you, while I get something hot for the kid," she said, and ambled toward the lean-to.
If the men thought to have their curiosity concerning the youngster satisfied by word of mouth, however, they were doomed to be disappointed; for when Rankin himself entered it was as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He hung up his coat methodically, and, with the boy by his side, partook of the hastily prepared meal impassively, as was his wont. It could not have escaped him that the small Benjamin ate and ate until it seemed marvellous that one stomach could accommodate so much food; but he made no comment, and when at last the boy succumbed to a final plateful, he tilted back against the wall for his last smoke for the day. This was the usual signal of dismissal, and the hands put on their hats and filed silently out.