"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.