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"Well, give us a light off yours," said Slim.

In the glow, as they puffed, I could see the ends of their noses lit up, their cheek bones, and their wild eyes, produced my own "makings," rolled and lit, and the three flicks of fire rose and grew and fell and dwindled. Half an hour later we were calmly rolled in our blankets; shoes off. When I woke there was a faint light outside. Through the open tail-end wicket I saw that so strangely moving first light of day on the end boards of the car that came veering, oscillating, behind us. Hank and Slim, to judge by their blinking, had just come awake at the same time.

I suppose we must all have been brought back from sleep by one of these series of bumps, for we were at a standstill, but next moment moved again with the usual abrupt tug that seemed to wrench us, as well as the car, then stopped again. Slim rose and peered out at a crack in the wall near us. As he tiptoed back, Hank asked in a sleepy voice where we were.

"Can't see the name," answered Slim, "we're right in the depot. I can see what looks like a god-dam cemetery."