fat man said quickly. "We can accommodate your needs." He pulled out a map and a price list.

"This looks good," Waller pointed to a remote plot in a far corner with some trees in the area. "I can landscape my plot, correct?"

"As long as it meets our restrictions," the fat man said with a haughty smirk. He handed a list to Waller.

Waller looked over the restriction. "I'll take it," he said.

"Ah, how will you be paying Mr. Walker?"

"Is U.S. currency OK with you?"

"Well, I meant," the fat man was red in the face and stammering.

Waller tossed four one hundred dollar bills onto the desk, scattering the bills, forcing the fat man to gather them up. The man smoothed the bills and counted them three times before giving Wallerinto the white sheets and was soon asleep. Los Angeles was a long way off, and the hogger was making up for lost time.

The rocking motion and click-clack of the wheels pushed Waller into a deep slumber. He slept through stops in Houston and San Antonio where the locomotives were refueled. He awoke to a blue sky in West Texas. It was Christmas Eve. He washed up in the steel basin, dressed and went to the dining car. He had a delicious breakfast and returned to his roomette. He sat watching the barren landscape rush by. He got off in El Paso at two-thirty in the afternoon. He went inside the station and bought a ticket on the Texas and Pacific to Sweetwater. He walked the platform and