As if we
could have wanted anything else at that place except to cross the river,
which we don't do. We go up on this side. We came down the hill merely to
sleep at the ferry-house, the night being too bad for a road camp.
The one guest-room at the Ferry that could be called private was given to
Kitty and me; but we used it as a sitting-room till bedtime, there being
nowhere else to go but into the common room where the teamsters congregate.
We stood and looked at each other, in our common disguise of dust, and
tried to find our feet and other members that came awake gradually after
the long stupor of the ride. There was a heap of sage-brush on the hearth
laid ready for lighting. I touched a match to it, and Kitty dropped on her
knees in front of its riotous warmth and glow. Suddenly she sprang up and
stared about her, sniffing and catching her breath. I had noticed it too;
it fairly took one by the throat, the gruesome odor.
"What is this beastly smell?" She spoke right out, as our beloved English
do. Tom came in at that moment, and she turned upon him as though he were
the author of our misery.
"What _has_ happened in this horrid room? We can't stay here, you know!"
The proposition admitted of no argument.
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