u'd see frawg trains tearing acrosst
Arizona--big glass tanks with wire over 'em--through to New York, an'
the frawgs starin' out."

"Why, George," whispered a woman's voice behind me, "he's merely
deceiving them! He's merely making that stuff up out of his head."

"Yes, my dear, that's merely what he's doing."

"Well, I don't see why you imagined I should care for this. I think I'll
go back."

"Better see it out, Daisy. This beats the geysers or anything we're
likely to find in the Yellowstone."

"Then I wish we had gone to Bar Harbor as usual," said the lady, and she
returned to her Pullman.

But her husband stayed. Indeed, the male crowd now was a goodly sight
to see, how the men edged close, drawn by a common tie. Their different
kinds of feet told the strength of the bond--yellow sleeping-car
slippers planted miscellaneous and motionless near a pair of Mexican
spurs. All eyes watched the Virginian and gave him their entire
sympathy. Though they could not know his motive for it, what he was
doing had fallen as light upon them--all except the excited calculators.
These were loudly making their fortunes at both Rawhide and Tulare,
drugged by their satanically aroused hopes of gold, heedless of the
slippers and the spurs. Had a man given any sign to warn them, I think
he would have been lynched. Even the Indian chiefs had come to see in
their show war bonnets and blankets. They naturally understood nothing
of it, yet magnetically knew that the Virginian was the great man. And
they watched him with approval. He sat by the fire with the frying-pan,
looking his daily self--engaging and saturnine. And now as Trampas
declared tickets to California would be dear and Rawhide had better come
first, the Southerner let loose his heaven-born imagination.

"There's a better reason for Rawhide than tickets, Trampas," said he. "I
said it was too late for Tulare."

"I heard you," said Trampas. "Opinions may differ. You and I don't think
alike on several points."

"Gawd, Trampas!" said the Virginian, "d' yu' reckon I'd be rotting hyeh
on forty dollars if Tulare was like it used to be? Tulare is broke."

"What broke it? Your leaving?"

"Revenge broke it, and disease," said the Virginian, striking the
frying-pan on his knee, for the frogs were all gone. At those lurid
words their untamed child minds took fire, and they drew round him again
to hear a tale of blood. The crowd seemed to lean nearer.

But for a short moment i