Sleepy groaned and hunched down in his chair. The tooth had been thumping for eight hours. And there was a question in Sleepy’s mind about finding a dentist in Pinnacle City. Few of the old cow-towns boasted a dentist, and the local doctor was usually more or less of a failure with forceps.
The long cattle-train moved slowly. There was considerable of a grade between Kelo and Pinnacle City, and the terrific head wind held them back. The conductor and brakeman got into the crap game, trying to kill time over the dreary eighteen-mile stretch.
The train rumbled and clanked along, unable to make much headway.
“Likely blow all the hair off them cow critters,” observed one of the cowboys.
The caboose was foggy with dust, and the oil lamps hardly made light enough for them to see the spots on the worn dice.
Suddenly the draw-bars clanked together and the caboose began stopping by jerks. Sleepy swore painfully, when it jerked him upright. The engine whistled shrilly, and the train ground to a stop. The conductor peered out, swore softly and picked up his lantern.
“Must be just about to the Tumbling River bridge,” he said.
“How far is it from town?” asked Sleepy.
“Couple of miles,” said the brakeman.
He too had picked up his lantern, and they went outside. A moment later the brakeman sprang back on to the steps.