claim the
prairies of the Missouri valley among her suburbs."

"Well, no," said Rutherford, laughing, "not quite so bad as that, I
guess, but perhaps I didn't convey my meaning very clearly; my idea
was, that living in one of the western cities, you know, perhaps you
were out this way often."

"On the contrary, this is my first trip out here."

"Indeed! A pleasure trip, I presume?"

"No, I am out on business," replied Houston, not caring to state very
definitely just then the nature of his business.

"Well," said Rutherford, settling himself into an attitude more
comfortable than graceful, "I came out on a pleasure trip, but I must
say that so far, the pleasure has been rather an uncertain quantity;
for the last forty-eight hours, I haven't seen much besides dust,
Indians and desperadoes."

"Forty-eight hours!" exclaimed his companion, "you surely have not
been on this train that length of time."

"Not on this train; I stopped off last night to see an old friend of
mine that has a ranch out here," and forthwith, Rutherford launched
into a recital of his experiences of the last few hours, not omitting
a description of the man whose appearance had struck such terror to
his heart and expedited his departure from Valley City.

"I tell you, he was a man I wouldn't like to meet in the dark; he was
armed to the teeth, and there was a look in his eye that was awfully
unpleasant."

Mr. Houston judged from his companion's manner that he had not been
particularly pleased at meeting this alleged desperado in broad
daylight, but he courteously refrained from any such insinuation, and
as supper was just then announced, the young men adjourned to the
dining car, and the experiences of Mr. Rutherford were, for the time,
forgotten.

Nothing special occurred that evening, except that the monotony of the
journey was slightly relieved by the train entering upon the Bad
Lands. For some time, Houston and Rutherford stood upon the rear
platform, enjoying their cigars, and watching the strange phenomena of
that weird region; on all sides, vast tracts of ashen gray or black,
as if burnt to a crisp, with no sign of life, animal or vegetable, the
lurid lights flashing and playing in the distance, until it seemed as
though they might be gliding through the borderland of Dante's
Inferno.

Their cigars finished, they separated for the night, to be agreeably
surprised by the delightful change that met their eyes the following
morning.