"Be quick about it though--we want to be traveling.

Lord, it's cold!" Bud went into a saloon a few doors up the street, and was back presently with the bottle and the change.

There being nothing more to detain them there, he kicked some of the mud off his feet, scraped off the rest on the edge of the running board and climbed in, fastening the curtain against the storm.

"Lovely weather," he grunted sarcastically.

"Straight on to Bakersfield, huh ?" There was a minute of silence save for the gurgling of liquid running out of a bottle into an eager mouth.