"I'm from North Carolina working my way to Tucson."
"I thought you were from the East," he said. "How far do you think it is to that mountain peak over there?"
"It looks to be about five miles," I answered.
"That's where this clear air fools you. Why that peak is over forty miles away," he laughed.
The rest of this trip I was treated exceptionally good. Both the fireman and engineer seemed to take a delight in pointing out to me things of interest.
Presently a very high mountain caught my eye.
"That's Mt. Shasta," said the fireman. "It's over two miles high, and snow lies up there about nine months in the year. There's a railroad built up there now," he continued, "and its an ideal summer resort."
About 8 or 9 p. m. we reached El Paso, Tex.
At one time, years ago, El Paso was one of the roughest border towns in the West, but the modern El Paso is altogether a different town.