Mr. Stott, who was still patting his lip with his handkerchief, declared: "Such roads as these retard the development of a county."
"Undoubtedly," agreed Mr. Appel, getting up out of the aisle. "They are a disgrace!"
"We are going away from the mountains--I don't understand----"
Mr. Stott smiled reassuringly at Mrs. Budlong and told her that Wallie and Pinkey, of course, knew the road.
"I don't care," she insisted, stoutly, "I believe something's wrong. We are going awfully fast, and if I thought it was as rough as this all the way I should prefer to walk."
"You must remember that you are now in the West, Mrs. Budlong," Mr. Stott replied in a kind but reproving tone, "and we cannot expect----"
Mrs. Budlong, who had just bitten her tongue, retorted sharply: "We certainly could expect a more comfortable conveyance than this. If I live to get out I shall never step foot in it again."
"When we stop at the post-office," said Mr. Budlong in a tone of decision as he clung to the window frame, "I shall hire a machine and go out--the rest of you can do as you like."
If there was dissatisfaction inside the coach it was nothing at all compared to the excitement on the box as the horses galloped down the railroad track. The leaders' mouths might have been bound in cast-iron for all the attention they paid to the pull on their bits, although Pinkey and Wallie were using their combined strength in their efforts to stop the runaways.
"Them dudes must be gittin' an awful churnin'," said Pinkey through his clenched teeth.
"We'll be lucky if we are not ditched," Wallie panted as he braced his feet.
"Wouldn't that be some rank! Even if we 'rim a tire' we got to swing off this track, for there's a culvert somewheres along here and----"
"Pink!"
Pinkey had no time to look, but he knew what the sharp exclamation meant.
"Pull my gun out--lay it on the seat--I can stop 'em if I must."
Pinkey's face was white under its sunburn and his jaw was set.
"How far we got?"
"About a hundred yards," Wallie answered, breathing heavily.
"We'll give 'em one more try. My hands are playin' out. You pop it to the roan when I say. Cut him wide open! If I can't turn him, I'll drop him. They'll pile up and stop. It's the only way."
Pinkey dug his heels into the foot-brace in front and took a tighter wrap of the lines around his hands. He could see the culvert ahead. His voice was hoarse as he gave the word.