“That means I can’t get a train to Turquoise until tomorrow, eh?”
“Probably about tomorrow even’.”
“Anybody around here got a horse I could buy or rent?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I saw two horses over at the saloon rack.”
“Couple of strange cowboys. They rode in today from the Outpost country. Been punching cows for the Muller outfit.”
“I wonder if they’re headin’ for Turquoise City?”
“I don’t think so. They asked about the Long Bend country.”
“Maybe I better take a look at ’em. I’ll leave my baggage here.”
Moran mopped his face again and crossed the track to the saloon. It was a dusty, fly-specked place. The bartender was humped over in a chair, reading a paper-backed novel; a gray cat was curled up on the end of the bar, and at the one card table sat two dusty cowboys, eating canned salmon, peaches and crackers.