ady burned brown by the sun.
The town itself consisted of but one short, crooked street, flanked by
rough, ramshackle frame structures, two-thirds of these apparently
saloons, with dirty, flapping tents sandwiched between, and huge piles
of tin cans and other rubbish stored away behind. The street was
rutted and dusty, and the ceaseless wind swirled the dirt about in
continuous, suffocating clouds. The hotel itself, a little, squatty,
two-storied affair, groaned to the blast, threatening to collapse.
Nothing moved except a wagon down the long ribbon of road, and a dog
digging for a bone behind a near-by tent. It was so squalid and ugly
she turned away in speechless disgust.

The interior, however, offered even smaller comfort. A rude bedstead,
one leg considerably short and propped up by a half brick, stood
against the board wall; a single wooden chair was opposite, and a
fly-specked mirror hung over a tin basin and pitcher. The floor sagged
fearfully and the side walls lacked several inches of reaching the
ceiling. Even in the dim candle light of the evening before, the bed
coverings had looked so forbidding that Molly had compromised, lying
down, half-dressed on the outside; now, in the garish glare of
returning day they appeared positively filthy. And this was the best
to be had; she realized that, her courage failing at the thought of
remaining alone amid such surroundings. As she washed, using a towel
of her own after a single glance at the hotel article, and did up her
rebellious hair, she came to a prompt decision. She would go directly
on--would take the first stage. Perhaps her father, or whomever he
sent, would be met with along the route. The coaches had regular
meeting stations, so there was small danger of their missing each
other. Even if she was compelled to wait over at Fort Dodge, the
environment there could certainly be no more disagreeable than this.

The question of possible danger was dismissed almost without serious
thought. She had seen no papers since leaving St. Louis, and the news
before that contained nothing more definite than rumors of uneasiness
among the Plains Indians. Army officers interviewed rather made light
of the affair, as being merely the regular outbreak of young warriors,
easily suppressed. On the train she had met with no one who treated
the situation as really serious, and, if it was, then surely her father
would send some message of restraint. Satisfied upon