There was the note, too,--
heavy green paper with a stag's head printed on it, and looking almost
like a check.

"Well, all right, if it don't cost too much and the time don't run too
long," surrendered Casey reluctantly. "How much--"

"Fare's a little over twenty-five dollars, an' they'll be four full fares
an' three half. I guess mebby I better have a hundred an' seventy-five
anyway, so'st we kin eat on the way."

Casey chanced to have almost that much coming to him out of the business,
so that he would not be lending Bill's money. He watched the lean Smith
fill in the amount and sign the note, identifying the truck by its engine
and license numbers, and he went and borrowed fifteen dollars from the
proprietor of the Oasis and made up the amount. There was a train at noon,
and from his garage door he watched the Smith family start off across the
lava rocks to the depot, each one laden with bundles and disreputable
grips, the spotted dog trotting optimistically ahead of the party with his
pink tongue draped over the right side of his mouth. Smith turned, the
baby in his arms, and called back casually to Casey:

"Yuh better tie up them two milk goats when yuh milk 'em. They won't stand
if yuh don't."

Casey's jaw sagged. He had not thought of the goats. Indeed, the last two
days they had not troubled him except by their bleating at dawn. Humbolt
and Greeley had grazed them over by the railroad track so that they could
watch the trains go by. Casey looked and saw that the goats were still
over there where they had been driven early. He took off his hat and
rubbed his palm reflectively over the back of his head, set the hat on his
head with a pronounced tilt over one eyebrow, and reached for his plug of
tobacco.

"Oh, darn the goats! Me milkin' goats! Well, now, Casey Ryan never milked
no goats, an' he ain't goin' to milk no goats! You can ask anybody if they
think't he will."

Casey was very busy that day, and he had no dull-eyed Juan to do certain
menial tasks about the cars that stopped before his garage. Nevertheless
he kept an eye on the station of Patmos until the westbound train had come
and had departed, and on the rough road between the railroad and the
garage for another half hour, until he was sure that the Smith family were
not coming back. Then he went more cheerfully about his work, now and then
glancing, perhaps, at the truck which had been driven into the rear of the
garage where it was very much i