“Oh, dear!” interrupted Dorothy, anxiously. “All this isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“Jeru—— Well!” said the man. “Where do yuh want tuh go?”
“Why, we’ve been left behind,” said Dorothy, and then she fully explained their predicament.
The cowboy, who was a young fellow, grasped the situation at once.
“You won’t git even a slow train out o’ yere before noon to-morrer,” he said. “And ’twixt now and then you’d be mighty uncomfortable, I reckon. There ain’t nawthin’ yere but a boardin’ shack, an’ there ain’t a woman ever stops thar only Miz’ Little, whose old man runs the shack and keeps the corral yere.”
“Goodness!” gasped Dorothy.
“Gracious!” gasped Tavia.
“Oh, they’re nice folks, but they ain’t fixed right to entertain ladies,” said the man.
“And we don’t want to be entertained,” wailed Dorothy. “We want to get on.”
“Shore you do,” granted the cowboy. “No other good train on this road, as I say. If you follered by slow trains you’d never catch that flyer—not in a dawg’s age.”