"Oh, confound those little beasts of yours;" exclaimed Ned, "a little exercise won't hurt them, but to think of three hours in a place like this! and say, don't you know how to spell out here?" "Well," said Tom, coolly, "I don't hold myself personally responsible for the wording of that blackboard, but I suppose that's the phonetic spelling they used to talk about when I lived east; you see we've adopted it out here, for we westerners have to rustle lively, and don't have time for old-fashioned ways." "I see," said Ned, rather sarcastically; "perhaps you can tell me why they don't 'rustle' that train along on time." "I suppose," replied Tom, "it's on account of that wreck two days ago; you know your train was ten hours late yesterday." "Yes," assented Ned, gazing about him with an expression of intense disgust; "I got here after dark; that's how it comes about that I never realized until the present moment what a paradise this place is. Valley City! I can't see more than a dozen buildings here." "That's probably because you're so near-sighted, my dear boy," replied Tom; and Ned, who was very sensitive on the subject of his near-sightedness, colored, and readjusted his eye-glasses, while he asked in a tone of despair: "Well, what am I to do in this beastly place, anyhow?" "You might take a stroll about the city," suggested Tom, "if you get lost you'll have to inquire your way of some of the police. I would be delighted to stay and keep you company, but work on the ranch is rushing and I must hurry back; so I'll wish you good luck and good-bye." "All right, old fellow," said Ned, shaking hands in a slightly patronizing way, "if you ever get out of this country, and find yourself within the limits of civilization again, just take a run down to the 'Hub' and see me." "Much obliged," said Tom, turning around for a parting shot; "I say, Ned, while you're waiting for the train, you'd better get out your cameras; you might catch some more 'stunning views' you know," and lightly snapping his whip, he started off, the bronchos standing on their forefeet with their heels in the air. "Good-bye, Tom," Ned called, after the rapidly retreating spring-board, "if you ever had any brains to lose I'd be anxious about you, but I guess you're safe enough." Tom's only reply was a crack of the whip, and he and the ponies soon disappeared in a cloud of dust, leaving Ned to survey his surroundings at his leisure.