A push came through the train from forward. We were slowing for the Rawhide station, and all began to be busy and to talk. “Going up to the mines to-day?” “Oh, let's grub first.” “Guess it's too late, anyway.” And so forth; while they rolled and roped their bedding, and put on their coats with a good deal of elbow motion, and otherwise showed off. It was wasted. The Virginian did not know what was going on in the caboose. He was leaning and looking out ahead, and Scipio's puzzled eye never left him. And as we halted for the water-tank, the Southerner exclaimed, “They 'ain't got away yet!” as if it were good news to him.
He meant the delayed trains. Four stalled expresses were in front of us, besides several freights. And two hours more at least before the bridge would be ready.
Travellers stood and sat about forlorn, near the cars, out in the sage-brush, anywhere. People in hats and spurs watched them, and Indian chiefs offered them painted bows and arrows and shiny horns.
“I reckon them passengers would prefer a laig o' mutton,” said the Virginian to a man loafing near the caboose.
“Bet your life!” said the man. “First lot has been stuck here four days.”
“Plumb starved, ain't they?” inquired the Virginian.
“Bet your life! They've eat up their dining cars and they've eat up this town.”
“Well,” said the Virginian, looking at the town, “I expaict the dining-cyars contained more nourishment.”
“Say, you're about right there!” said the man. He walked beside the caboose as we puffed slowly forward from the water-tank to our siding. “Fine business here if we'd only been ready,” he continued. “And the Crow agent has let his Indians come over from the reservation. There has been a little beef brought in, and game, and fish. And big money in it, bet your life! Them Eastern passengers has just been robbed. I wisht I had somethin' to sell!”
“Anything starting for Rawhide this afternoon?” said Trampas, out of the caboose door.