Darby replies,
I understand, Mr. Paladin. If you change your mind in the future, just let me know. He takes a notepad and pencil out of his coat pocket, writes
Edward T. Darby
Texarkana, Texas.
and hands the paper to Paladin.
He changes the topic. It seems that Darby is a little concerned about things he's been reading about the economic situation Back East and in California.
I guess you've read, Mr. Paladin, that a bank in New York "failed." And another one in San Francisco. When their depositors wanted to withdraw their money, they didn't have the cash on hand to cover it. They'd put the customers' money into investments of their own, for their own profit, you see. And a lot of those investments turned out to be poison. The enterprises or properties went belly up, all or most of the investors' money was lost. The papers say the bank failures started in Austria and have spread all across Europe. And that the East Coast and California banks had their fingers in the pie over there, and now they're in trouble as a result. What do you think, Mr. Paladin? Anything for us to be worried about here in Texas and the Southeast?
The train moves steadily along and the landscape gradually changes from grasslands, to savannah, to more wooded. And from land of big prairie ranches to land of smaller, greener farms. Around 8:45 PM, in almost the last light of day, the train enters the edges of a town of maybe 900 to 1,000 people. As it slows to approach what must be the station which must be at the center of the town, there's a sign by the track reading,
Leaving the Great State of Texas. Beside it is a flagpole around twice as tall as a regular one, with a gigantic Lone Star Texas flag. Which two men are currently reverently taking down. And just past that sign, another one saying
Welcome to Arkansas - Regnat Populus. The train crosses a bridge over the Red River comes to a stop at the town's station. Visible from the station is a two-story clapboard wooden building with a large sign reading
Ozark Diamond Hotel and next to it, across the street, a stable and corral with a sign
Jas. Squatly Stables.
Paladin inquires in the station house for tomorrow's train schedule. The station agent replies in an accent that as almost as twangy as a Texas one. But, if possible, more lazy and countrified?
The train for Little Rock departs promptly at 7:10 AM, sir. Tomorra's Thursday, and there ain't any special livestock cars except fur Fridy and Saturdy. If you'll be transporting any horses or cows, I have advise ya that they'll be sharin a car with hogs. The railroad ain't liable fer injuries er vet bill for injuries to livestock. And if yer livestock kicks out a wall and somebody's passel a hogs, horse er cow bust lose and die along the tracks, you'll be liable fer everthing. That means you have to pay fer everbody's dead livestock.
He looks Paladin over, up and down, and gets a suspicious look on his face.
Ya do know that hogs are smart, don't ya? And they have big ole mean teeth and tusks? And the eat rattlers for breakfast? He looks Paladin over again, with a doubtful and kind of fearful look on his face.
Where ya coming from, mister? And where you goin?
Fare for the 210 miles from Dallas to Texarkana was $8.40 for Paladin and $4.20 for Copper.
Reminder that Paladin has two queries to reply to. 
