"Oh, we're two miles from the town yet," Sandy replied to the look. "Pile in. Train can't make it over the shelves between here and Stinkin' Water." Ross silently "piled in." Sandy sat down beside him, and the wagon filled with the other passengers. Behind them, stretching back into the darkness, their heads sagging sleepily, was a row of teams, their neck-yokes joined by a chain, their heads connected by a single rein running through the ring at the left side of the bit. "Hey, there," called one of the men in the wagon, "does Grasshopper strike the trail to-night for Meeteetse?" "Yep," came a voice beside a lantern which was traveling to and fro. "There's a lot of freight to pack up to Miners' Camp; and, if it gits there ahead of the snow, these freighters have got to hit the pike more rapid than they have been doin'." A horseman dashed past the wagon and into the circle of light from the lantern hung in front of the station. Dropping the reins to the ground, he swung his leather-enveloped legs off the horse, and yelled at the station agent: "Have those boxes of apples come yet?" "Just here," replied the holder of the moving light. "Can't you start 'em up by the Meeteetse stage to-night?" demanded the newcomer. "The boys are about famished." "Them surveyors," complained the agent, "are always hollerin' for more grub. 'N' no matter how much ye fill 'em, they don't go faster than molasses in January. Ain't got beyond Sagehen Roost this minute, and they'll probably be a-quittin' in a month." Ross pricked up his ears. The same interest was manifested by Sandy. "Don't you worry about our quitting," the newcomer returned brusquely; "if the Burlington Railroad starts out to run a track up to Miners' Camp, why, it will run one, that's all, if the track has to go under snow-sheds all the way up from the Meadows." At this point the big open bus rumbled off over the dust-choked "shelf" toward Cody. An unwieldy swaying coach drawn by four horses passed them on its way to the station. "Meeteetse stage is late to-night," remarked Sandy. On rumbled the wagon. Its brake screamed against the wheel as the horses plunged down the steep inclines which marked the descent from one "shelf" to another. Presently a vile odor greeted Ross's nostrils, and at the same time the wagon struck the bridge over the sulphurated waters of the Shoshone, and began the climb on the other side. Ross was keenly alive to this strange new world in which the convenience of the East met the newness and crudeness of the West. Brilliant electric lights illuminated dust-deep, unpaved, unsprinkled streets. Tents stood beside pretentious homes, and stone business blocks were rising beside offices located in canvas wagons with rounded tops. And to and fro past the wagon flashed horsemen, cowboys dressed like Sandy except that their corduroy trousers were incased in leather "chaps." Sandy, watching Ross out of the corner of his eye, grinned at the boy's expression.