tone of despair:

"Well, what am I to do in this beastly place, anyhow?"

"You might take a stroll about the city," suggested Tom, "if you get
lost you'll have to inquire your way of some of the police. I would be
delighted to stay and keep you company, but work on the ranch is
rushing and I must hurry back; so I'll wish you good luck and
good-bye."

"All right, old fellow," said Ned, shaking hands in a slightly
patronizing way, "if you ever get out of this country, and find
yourself within the limits of civilization again, just take a run down
to the 'Hub' and see me."

"Much obliged," said Tom, turning around for a parting shot; "I say,
Ned, while you're waiting for the train, you'd better get out your
cameras; you might catch some more 'stunning views' you know," and
lightly snapping his whip, he started off, the bronchos standing on
their forefeet with their heels in the air.

"Good-bye, Tom," Ned called, after the rapidly retreating spring-board,
"if you ever had any brains to lose I'd be anxious about you, but I
guess you're safe enough."

Tom's only reply was a crack of the whip, and he and the ponies soon
disappeared in a cloud of dust, leaving Ned to survey his surroundings
at his leisure.

In the foreground was the low, dingy depot, and on the platform,
leaning against the building as though their spinal columns were
unable to support them, were two specimens of the genus homo, which
were entirely new to the young Bostonian. He gazed at them with
undisguised interest, being unable to determine whether they were
cow-boys or miners, these being the two classes into which, as he
imagined, the western population was about evenly divided. That they
immediately classified him, in their western vernacular, as a
"tenderfoot," and a remarkably verdant specimen at that, was not owing
to their superior penetration, as it was a self-evident fact.

Mr. Edward B. Rutherford, Jr., prided himself upon being a
resident of Boston, a son of one of her best families, and a
graduate of Harvard, and it is scarcely to be wondered at if he
felt himself slightly superior to ordinary mortals who had not been
blessed with these advantages. Nevertheless, the fact remained that
Mr. Rutherford's personal appearance could not be considered
especially prepossessing, even when moving in his own sphere where
he felt himself, as he would have expressed it, "en rapport" with his
surroundings; under other circumstances, as at the prese