“Hey!” Bender yelled again. When he faced him this time the yellow glare of the station lamps revealed deep lines in his face. Tom Bender was spoiling for a good ruction and he didn't care where it started. “How long you gonna be?” he challenged.
“Aw, I dunno,” the driver responded lazily. “You in a hurry?”
“You're right I'm in a hurry!” Bender snapped. The driver wasn't very big and Bender knew if he slammed him one he'd probably break him in two.
The driver's fingers were spread and working and his face was alight with belligerency but he knew this was too much man for him to take on single-handed. In a minute his fingers grew still, he relaxed a little and tried to take it good-naturedly.
“In that case,” he said; “I guess we better be rolling.”
“Yeah,” said Bender, still a little sore; “in that case we better be rolling.”
They rolled.
Rondora was booming. It was a settlement of drab one- and two-story buildings squatting upon the prairie with only a railroad to keep it alive. It was the sort of town that can be found nowhere but on the west Texas flats, and had the hand of fortune stayed itself Rondora probably would have gone on for generations on end creating not even a flicker of interest from the world outside. People were born, lived and died in the same house—that sort of town. Quick riches had increased the tempo of life and geared it too high for old-time fashions. She was an old chassis with a new and powerful motor and anybody who stopped to think would have known she couldn't stand a pace like this without bursting somewhere.
The single important street teemed with people. Automobiles were parked nose-first at the curbing and crowds were gathered on the corners and in the drug stores. Some of them were in the habiliments of the field and some of them were in plain trousers and shirt sleeves but all of them had money in their pockets and were looking for things to buy. From somewhere came the noisy discord of an electric piano. Conversation was loud, laughter was boisterous and women drove slowly up and down the street in closed cars, sitting alone in the shadows, and stealing surreptitious come-hither looks at the men on the sidewalks.
Bender grinned and remarked that Rondora was sure a hot burg. The driver laughed pleasantly and agreed but added it sure as hell was gonna cool off now.