Now I must buy my outfit and take the trail for Penetier. This I resolved
to do with as few questions as possible. I never before was troubled by
sensitiveness, but the fact had dawned upon me that I did not like being
taken for a tenderfoot. So, with this in mind, I entered a general merchandise
store.
It was very large, and full of hardware, harness, saddles, blankets--
everything that cowboys and ranchmen use. Several men, two in
shirt-sleeves, were chatting near the door. They saw me come in, and then,
for all that it meant to them, I might as well not have been in existence
at all. So I sat down to wait, determined to take Western ways and things
as I found them. I sat there fifteen minutes by my watch. This was not so
bad; but when a lanky, red-faced, leather-legged individual came in to he
at once supplied with his wants, I began to get angry. I waited another
five minutes, and still the friendly chatting went on. Finally I could
stand it no longer.
"Will somebody wait on me?" I demanded.
One of the shirt-sleeved men leisurely got up and surveyed me.
"Do you want to buy something?" he drawled.
"Yes, I do."
"Why didn't you say so?"
The reply trembling on my lips was cut short by the entrance of Buell.
"Hello!" he said in a loud voice, shaking hands with me.
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