"Oh-- I guess it got tired of going in and out of the cylinder,"
retorted the conductor, starting towards the baggage car.

"Humph! I'll report you for impertinence!" declared the now angry
passenger, taking out his notebook and making a memorandum lest he
forget the conductor's retort. "It's a disgrace the way this road is
managed," he went on to the crowd of passengers that had gathered.
"I'm going to write to the newspapers about it. They're always having
accidents. Why, only last week, they run over a steer, somewhere in
this locality, the engine was derailed, two cars smashed, the road bed
torn up, baggage and express stuff scattered all over, everything
upside down, topsy-turvy and--"

"Was the steer killed?" asked a little boy, who was listening with
opened mouth and eyes to the story the excited passenger was telling.

"What!" fairly roared the man, and then, as he saw who had asked the
question, he turned away, and there was a general laugh.

"Do you think we'll be here long?" asked Bob of the colored porter of
the sleeping car they had occupied.

"Oh, yes, indeedy!" exclaimed the attendant, "If we gits on de move
befo' night we'll be mighty lucky."

"Then we've got to stay out here on the prairie all day," exclaimed
Jerry.

"Dat's what," spoke the negro as cheerfully as though that was the