Next to the building was a tent with "Poast Ofise" written on it in red paint. At least two hundred people who hoped to get mail stood in a long line outside it. Next was another tent with a sign, "J. C. Summers, Wholesale and Retail Grocer," and next to that a wooden building whose sign proclaimed that it belonged to Caldwell and Hunter, dry-goods merchants.
Everybody, including those who stood in various lines, for there was much pushing and shoving, seemed in a great hurry.
"What are they all doing?" Alec inquired.
"They are," his father said happily, "building Plains City." He called to a man standing beside a building, "Where's the livery stable?"
"Straight down!" The man waved his hand down the street.
"We'll leave our horses and walk around awhile," Mr. Simpson said. "It's worth seeing."
The livery stable, when they finally reached it, was merely a series of posts with ropes stretched between them. There were so many horses, mules, and ponies already tied to the ropes that there couldn't possibly be room for more. But just as they rode up, four horsemen rode away.
"Any room?" Mr. Simpson asked the lank, tobacco-chewing man in charge of the livery.
"Yup."
"How much?"