The cook was busy over the camp-fire when Wallie determined to speak and have it over.
"Don't let him tree you or run you into the river." Pinkey, who knew Wallie's purpose, warned him jocosely. "I'm glad it ain't me has the job of tellin' that hyena that he ain't as welcome as the President."
Wallie could not share Pinkey's amusement. On the contrary, it annoyed him. That was the worst of his partner nowadays, he was so happy that nothing troubled him. Perhaps envy was at the bottom of this irritation; at any rate, Wallie frowned and told himself that he never would have believed that love could make such a simpleton of anybody.
As Wallie drew nearer, through the smoke and steam rising from various cooking utensils he noted that Mr. Hicks' expression was particularly melancholy and his colour indicated that a large amount of bile had accumulated in his system. There was something tragic in the very way he stirred the frying potatoes, and as Wallie hesitated Hicks set his fists on his hips and recited in a voice vibrating with feeling:
"Into this Universe, and why not knowing, Nor whence, like water will-nilly flowing, And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not whither willy-nilly blowing."
It did not seem a propitious moment to "put Mr. Hicks in his place," as Mrs. Stott had phrased it, but Wallie had no desire to nerve himself twice for the same ordeal; therefore, with something of the desperate courage which comes to high-strung persons about to have a tooth extracted, Wallie advanced and inquired cordially:
"Well, Mr. Hicks, how are things coming?"
"I am not complaining," replied Mr. Hicks, in a tone which intimated that once he started enumerating his grievances he would not know where to finish.
"Pleasant people, aren't they?" Wallie suggested.
"They do have appetites," Wallie admitted. "I suppose it's living in the open."
"I've cooked for section hands on the Burlington, and they were canary-birds beside these Poland Chinas. We had ought to brought troughs instead of tinware."
"You mustn't speak so of our guests," Wallie reprimanded.
"That fat sister in the cameo breastpin--she swiped a can of potted chicken on me yesterday--she's a regular 'camp-robber'."
"We mustn't have any trouble. I want to get through this trip peaceably. In fact, Mr. Hicks, it's along this line that I wished to have a word with you."