mesquite pastures, and even high up on the crests of stony ridges.
One day their timbers were raw and clean, the next day they were
black and greasy, advertising the fact that once again the heavy
rock pressure far below had sent another fountain of fortune
spraying over the top. Then pipe lines were laid and unsightly
tank farms were built.

Ranger became a mobilization point, a vast concentration camp
for supplies, and amid its feverish activity there was no rest, no
Sundays or holidays; the work went on at top tension night and day
amid a clangor of metal, a ceaseless roar of motors, a bedlam of
hammers and saws and riveters. Men lived in greasy clothes,
breathing dust and the odors of burnt gas mainly, eating poor food
and drinking warm, fetid water when they were lucky enough to get
any at all.

This was about the state of affairs that Calvin Gray found on the
morning of his arrival. He and Mallow had managed to secure a Pullman
section on the night train from Dallas; the fact that they were forced
to carry their own luggage from the station uptown to the restaurant
where they hoped to get breakfast was characteristic of the place. En
route thither they had to elbow their way through a crowd that filled
the sidewalks as if on a fair day.

Mallow was well acquainted with the town, it appeared, and during
breakfast he maintained a running fire of comment, some of which
was worth listening to.

"Ever hear how the first discovery was made? Well, the T. P.
Company had the whole country plastered with coal leases and