midday
Strange children , who meant nothing to me , were playing in the Harlings ' big yard when I passed ; the mountain ash had been cut down , and only a sprouting stump was left of the tall Lombardy poplar that used to guard the gate . I hurried on . The rest of the morning I spent with Anton Jelinek , under a shady cottonwood tree in the yard behind his saloon . While I was having my midday dinner at the hotel , I met one of the old lawyers who was still in practice , and he took me up to his office and talked over the Cutter case with me . After that , I scarcely knew how to put in the time until the night express was due . I took a long walk north of the town , out into the pastures where the land was so rough that it had never been ploughed up , and the long red grass of early times still grew shaggy over the draws and hillocks . Out there I felt at home again .