There were a few tents, some wagons and picketed horses, and there were a great many machines parked at will. But, from the height, it all looked like the miniature scene of a panoramic model, the houses cardboard, the horses and wagons toys of tin. The horses were the only moving objects, no smoke curled yet from the chimneys.
Here and there unbroken glass in the windows flung back the sun. A door opened and a midget in shirtsleeves came out, stretching arms, palpably yawning. Suddenly smoke jetted from a tumbled chimney, other puffs followed and steady vapors mounted. Ant-like men emerged from every house, gathered in little knots, busied themselves with the horses, hurried back to breakfasts. Faint sounds came up to the travelers.
"W'udn't think that place had been dead as a cemetery fo' years?" commented Sandy. "Stahted up overnight like an old engine. That's the hotel, with the high front. Furniture all in it an' in the cabins. Most of the fixtures left in the saloons, an' there was a plenty of them. Two hotels, five restyronts, seven gamblin' houses, twenty-two saloons an' the rest sleepin' cabins. That was Dynamite. When they git it dusted off and started up it'll run ortermatic."
"Cuttin' out the saloons," said Miranda.
"I'm not so sure of that," said Mormon, turning in his seat. "You-all want to remember, ma'am, that this is an unco'porated town an' that's there's allus a shortage of law an' order for a whiles wherever there's a strike, gold, oil or whatever 'tis. Eighty per cent. of the rush is a hard-shelled lot an' erlong with 'em is a smaller bunch that thrives best when things is run haphazard. There'll be licker down there, an' it'll sure be quickfire licker at that. If you warn't the kind you are," added Mormon, "I'd tell you that down there ain't no place fo' a woman?"
"Meanin'?" snapped Miranda Bailey. But there was a gleam in her eye that showed of a compliment accepted.
"Meanin'," said Mormon "that, ef you'll take it 'thout offense, you-all air plumb up-to-date. When wimmen took up the ballot I figger they wasn't on'y ready fo' equal rights, they knew how to git 'em. 'Side from the shootin' end of it, I'd say you was as well equipped as any man to look out fo' yore own interests."
"Thanks," replied Miranda. "I suppose you mean that as a compliment. Also I know one end of a gun from another an' I can hit a barn if it ain't flyin'. Ed, what you stoppin' fer?"
"Blamed if they ain't a puncture," said Ed as he put on the brakes. "We got a spare tire but 'twon't do to spile this 'un. We got to git back some time. Might not be able to buy a spare round here. I got to fix this."
"Fix it when you git down," said his aunt. "Put on the spare. I'm kinder nervous to git my claim staked. There's a sight of folks here. Look at 'em runnin' around like so many crazy chickens. Put on the spare, Ed, while we pile out. An' hurry."