They managed to make the trip before night and returned to the hotel, footsore from the hard, hot pavements.

There was something unkindly and ungenerous in those pavements, it seemed to Ronicky.

He was discovering to his great amazement that the loneliness of the mountain desert is nothing at all compared to the loneliness of the Manhattan crowd.
Two very gloomy and silent cow-punchers ate their dinner that night and went to bed early.

But in the morning they began the actual work of their campaign.

It was an arduous labor.