The train-hands seemed interested in their own society and lived in
their own caboose. A chill wind with wet in it came blowing from the
invisible draws, and brought the feel of the distant mountains.

"That's Montana!" said Scipio, snuffing. "I am glad to have it inside my
lungs again."

"Ain't yu' getting cool out there?" said the Virginian's voice. "Plenty
room inside."

Perhaps he had expected us to follow him; or perhaps he had meant us
to delay long enough not to seem like a reenforcement. "These gentlemen
missed the express at Medora," he observed to his men, simply.

What they took us for upon our entrance I cannot say, or what they
believed. The atmosphere of the caboose was charged with voiceless
currents of thought. By way of a friendly beginning to the three hundred
miles of caboose we were now to share so intimately, I recalled myself
to them. I trusted no more of the Christian Endeavor had delayed them.
"I am so lucky to have caught you again," I finished. "I was afraid my
last chance of reaching the Judge's had gone."

Thus I said a number of things designed to be agreeable, but they met my
small talk with the smallest talk you can have. "Yes," for instance, and
"Pretty well, I guess," and grave strikings of matches and thoughtful
looks at the floor. I suppose we had made twenty miles to the
imperturbable clicking of the caboose when one at length asked his
neighbor had he ever seen New York.

"No," said the other. "Flooded with dudes, ain't it?"

"Swimmin'," said the first.

"Leakin', too," said a third.

"Well, my gracious!" said a fourth, and beat his knee in private
delight. None of them ever looked at me. For some reason I felt
exceedingly ill at ease.

"Good clothes in New York," said the third.

"Rich food," said the first.

"Fresh eggs, too," said the third.

"Well, my gracious!" said the fourth, beating his knee.

"Why, yes," observed the Virginian, unexpectedly; "they tell me that
aiggs there ain't liable to be so rotten as yu'll strike 'em in this
country."

None of them had a reply for this, and New York was abandoned. For some
reason I felt much better.

It was a new line they adopted next, led off by Trampas.

"Going to the excitement?" he inquired, selecting Shorty.

"Excitement?" said Shorty, looking up.

"Going to Rawhide?" Trampas repeated. And all watched Shorty.

"Why, I'm all adrift missin' that express," said Shorty.

"Maybe I can give you employment," sug