The arrival of the Limited was a big event in Cannondale, and a large group of loafers always watched it hurl itself across the prairie and come to an impatient stop at the little station. On this night the three riders found nearly a hundred people lounging there. Sam Hogg was walking up and down impatiently and talking to Tim Lynch, owner of the Lone Star Saloon. The three punchers found perches on a baggage truck, rolled their cigarettes, and looked about for some one to annoy.
They saw Toothpick and the sheriff whispering together in the shadow of the freight house, but the lanky cow-puncher was too quick on the come-back for their taste, and Sheriff Tom Powers was touchy these days, so they continued to search for easier prey. Tad Hicks jerked his thumb toward Dutchy and Silent Moore, leaning against the wall.
“Wish I’d thought of tellin’ Jim Hogg to go question them hombres,” he grinned.
The others chuckled and then grew glum at this lost opportunity, for Dutchy and Silent had the reputation of being morose and taciturn.
Mrs. Ransom, the judge’s wife, her daughter, Mary, and Snippets McPherson strolled by.
“Howdy, ladies,” Kansas called.
Mrs. Ransom nodded, Mary giggled, and Snippets smiled.
“Hello, boys,” she cried. “Kansas, when are you going to bring me over that dun horse to break for you?”
Kansas flushed and the others guffawed. The week before, the said dun had set him afoot ignominiously, where he had been found by Snippets.
“Never mind, Kansas. I was only funnin’. I know your cinch broke, ’cause I found your saddle,” she added contritely.