The coaches were
crowded; women fanned themselves unceasingly; their men snored,
open-mouthed, over the backs of the seats, and the aisles were
full of squalling, squabbling children.
As for the country itself, it was dying. The ranches were stripped
of stock, no carts creaked along the highways, and the roads, like
the little farms, were growing up to weeds. Stores were empty, the
people were idle. Over all was an atmosphere of decay, and, what
was far more significant, the people seemed content.
All morning the monotonous journey continued--a trial to Alaire
and Dolores, but to Jose Sanchez a red-letter experience. He
covered the train from end to end, making himself acquainted with
every one and bringing to Alaire the gossip that he picked up.
It was not until midday that the first interruption occurred; then
the train pulled in upon a siding, and after an interminable delay
it transpired that a north-bound troop-train was expected.
Jose brought this intelligence: "Soon you will behold the flower
of the Mexican army," he told Alaire. "You will see thousands of
Longorio's veterans, every man of them a very devil for blood.
They are returning to Nuevo Pueblo after destroying a band of
those rebels.
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