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freight cars； he would have pitied the poor fool。 〃And I guess Boston'll
have to get along without me for a spell； too；〃 continued Lin。 〃A man
don't want to show up plumb broke like that younger son did after eatin'
with the hogs the bishop told about。 His father was a Jim…dandy； that hog
chap's。 Hustled around and set 'em up when he come back home。 Frank； he'd
say to me 'How do you do； brother？' and he'd be wearin' a good suit o'
clothes andno； sir； you bet！〃
Lin now watched the great headlight of a freight train bearing slowly
down into Green River from the wilderness。 Green River is the end of a
division； an epoch in every train's journey。 Lanterns swung signals； the
great dim thing slowed to its standstill by the coal chute； its
locomotive moved away for a turn of repose； the successor backed steaming
to its place to tackle a night's work。 Cars were shifted； heavily bumping
and parting。
〃Hello； Lin！〃 A face was looking from the window of the caboose。
〃Hello！〃 responded Mr。 McLean； perceiving above his head Honey Wiggin； a
good friend of his。 They had not met for three years。
〃They claimed you got killed somewheres。 I was sorry to hear it。〃 Honey
offered his condolence quite sincerely。
〃Bruck my leg；〃 corrected Lin； 〃if that's what they meant。〃
〃I expect that's it；〃 said Honey。 〃You've had no other trouble？〃
〃Been boomin'；〃 said Lin。
From the mere undertone in their voices it was plain they were good
friends； carefully hiding their pleasure at meeting。
〃Wher're yu' bound？〃 inquired Honey。
〃East；〃 said Lin。
〃Better jump in here； then。 We're goin' west。〃
〃That just suits me；〃 said Lin。
The busy lanterns wagged among the switches； the steady lights of the
saloons shone along the town's wooden facade。 From the bluffs that wall
Green River the sweet； clean sage…brush wind blew down in currents
freshly through the coal…smoke。 A wrench passed through the train from
locomotive to caboose； each fettered car in turn strained into motion and
slowly rolled over the bridge and into silence from the steam and the
bells of the railroad yard。 Through the open windows of the caboose great
dull…red cinders rattled in； and the whistles of distant Union Pacific
locomotives sounded over the open plains ominous and long； like ships at
sea。
Honey and Lin sat for a while； making few observations and far between；
as their way is between whom flows a stream of old…time understanding。
Mutual whiskey and silence can express much friendship； and eloquently。
〃What are yu' doing at present？〃 Lin inquired。
〃Prospectin'。〃
Now prospecting means hunting gold； except to such spirits as the boy
Lin。 To these it means finding gold。 So Lin McLean listened to the talk
of his friend Honey Wiggin as the caboose trundled through the night。 He
saw himself in a vision of the near future enter a bank and thump down a
bag of gold…dust。 Then he saw the new； clean money the man would hand him
in exchange； bills with round zeroes half covered by being folded over；
and heavy； satisfactory gold pieces。 And then he saw the blue water that
twinkles beneath Boston。 His fingers came again on his trunk check。 He
had his ticket； too。 And as dawn now revealed the gray country to him；
his eye fell casually upon a mile…post： 〃Omaha； 876。〃 He began to watch
for them：877； 878。 But the trunk would really get to Omaha。
〃What are yu' laughin' about？〃 asked Honey。
〃Oh； the wheels。〃
〃Wheels？〃
〃Don't yu' hear 'em？〃 said Lin。 〃'Variety；' they keep a…sayin'。 'Variety；
variety。' 〃
〃Huh！〃 said Honey； with scorn。 〃'Ker…chunka…chunk' 's all I make it。〃
〃You're no poet；〃 observed Mr。 McLean。
As the train moved into Evanston in the sunlight； a gleam of dismay shot
over Lin's face； and he ducked his head out of sight of the window； but
immediately raised it again。 Then he leaned out； waving his arm with a
certain defiant vigor。 But the bishop on the platform failed to notice
this performance； though it was done for his sole benefit； nor would Lin
explain to the inquisitive Wiggin what the matter was。 Therefore； very
naturally； Honey drew a conclusion for himself； looked quickly out of the
window； and； being disappointed in what he expected to see remarked；
sulkily； 〃Do yu' figure I care what sort of a lookin' girl is stuck on
yu' in Evanston？〃 And upon this young Lin laughed so loudly that his
friend told him he had never seen a man get so foolish in three years。
By…and…by they were in Utah； and； in the company of Ogden friends； forgot
prospecting。 Later they resumed freight trains and journeyed north In
Idaho they said good…bye to the train hands in the caboose； and came to
Little Camas； and so among the mountains near Feather Creek。 Here the
berries were of several sorts； and growing riper each day； and the bears
in the timber above knew this； and came down punctually with the season；
making variety in the otherwise even life of the prospectors。 It was now
August； and Lin sat on a wet hill making mud…pies for sixty days。 But the
philosopher's stone was not in the wash at that placer； nor did Lin
gather gold…dust sufficient to cover the nail of his thumb。 Then they
heard of an excitement at Obo； Nevada； and； hurrying to Obo； they made
some more mud…pies。
Now and then； eating their fat bacon at noon； Honey would say； 〃Lin；
wher're yu' goin'？〃
And Lin always replied； 〃East。〃 This became a signal for drinks。
For beauty and promise； Nevada is a name among names。 Nevada！ Pronounce
the word aloud。 Does it not evoke mountains and clear air； heights of
untrodden snow and valleys aromatic with the pine and musical with
falling waters？ Nevada！ But the name is all。 Abomination of desolation
presides over nine…tenths of the place。 The sun beats down as on a roof
of zinc； fierce and dull。 Not a drop of water to a mile of sand。 The mean
ash…dump landscape stretches on from nowhere to nowhere； a spot of mange。
No portion of the earth is more lacquered with paltry； unimportant
ugliness。
There is gold in Nevada； but Lin and Honey did not find it。 Prospecting
of the sort they did； besides proving unfruitful； is not comfortable。 Now
and again； losing patience； Lin would leave his work and stalk about and
gaze down at the scattered men who stooped or knelt in the water。 Passing
each busy prospector； Lin would read on every broad； upturned pair of
overalls the same label； 〃Levi Strauss； No。 2；〃 with a picture of two
lusty horses hitched to one of these garments and vainly struggling to
split them asunder。 Lin remembered he was wearing a label just like that
too； and when he considered all things he laughed to himself。 Then；
having stretched the ache out of his long legs； he would return to his
ditch。 As autumn wore on； his feet grew cold in the mushy gravel they
were sunk in。 He beat off the sand that had stiffened on his boots； and
hated Obo； Nevada。 But he held himself ready to say 〃East〃