Ford At Valverde

“Central Pacific is laying the miles down daily..,” but it’d probably get you half-way at best,” he remarked with a sigh as though weary about the dilemma.

  “It would mean I’d have to hold off on finishing the widow’s house. She might not like it without a yellow coat of paint,” he swung his head from side to side as though a pity.

  “I’m sure it’ll take care of itself,” smiled Osprey, but Daniel had already climbed into the drivers seat of the wagon and had a firm grip on the reins.

  “Just where do you think you’re going?” yelled Osprey with hands flailing diplomatically, but knowing the wiser.

  “Got some packing to do, brother!” he yelled, “so either get in or get left behind!”

  Osprey ran along behind the wagon as Daniel steered the horses around in the grass.

  “Slow up,” he shouted. “I’m too old to have to run that fast!”

  He pulled up to halt the horses as they blew frustration through their nostrils. As Osprey climbed onto the wooden bench, Daniel looked over to him and grinned, “Nearly took a day out of a century, but I knew you’d come around.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” panted Osprey as he worked to catch his breath, but all the merrier for it. “Just keep your hind end steady on the seat and we ought to make it home in one piece.”

  At that, Daniel yelped the horses on with a crack at the reins, as some of the timbers went spilling out of the back.

  sea dwelling comforts