"It is."
"It'll be at least two weeks before it gets across the country," Ben said. "Then we've got to drag it up here from the end of track."
Tesno extracted a thick fold of paper from his shirt pocket and began to open it up. "Made a map of the supply road with the bad spots marked. There are a dozen places where we'll have to use block and tackle, Ben."
"I suppose we'll do well to make five miles a day," Ben said wearily. "Even with twenty-horse teams.... This is going to be your kettle of stew, Jack, from the time that boiler hits end of track till it's unloaded at the portal."
Tesno walked back to the town through the heavy darkness of the forest road. Reaching the street and turning up the walk toward the hotel, he had a glimpse of the townhouse a hundred yards away. Forgetting that he was dirty and unshaven, he swung instinctively toward the soft invitation of its lighted windows.
Sam Lester answered his knock and grumbled for him to come in. Persia sprang up from the sofa to meet him, taking both his hands. They both sat down. She looked him over possessively.
"Jack, it seems like ages. Was it a rough trip?"
"Lots of riding, not much sleeping."
Sam asserted petulantly that he was going to bed. He slammed the door behind him as he stalked off to the other part of the house.