Arizona reclined in the back of the buckboard between Robbie and Ruthie, the enticing smell from the picnic baskets between them promising good eats to come. Hannah sat beside Roy, who drove the team at a trot.

"Why you carry two guns?" Robby asked.

Hannah twisted in her seat to shush her son, then asked, "How far east have you been, Arizona?"

"Kansas City."
"What is it like?" she asked, searching his eyes again, as if reading paragraphs written in his pupils.

"Noisy," he said. "Busy."

"What are the women wearing?" Ruthie asked.

"I bet they got riverboats and railroads ever'where," Robby said.

"Does everybody have telegraphs now?" Roy asked.

Arizona bit his lip. They were ganging up on him with questions again. He decided to answer Roy's and ignore the others, hoping they would learn to speak one-at-a-time. "No. Just some of the businesses."

"There's a telegraph in Blue Stone," Roy said. "They got a wire there after the last Jake Kilrain fight. Said what round the knockout came and ever'thing."

Arizona nodded. "I hear people talking, every time a wire comes in. They talked about Sitting Bull's surrender; that earthquake in California; and some Russian big shot getting killed, all before the newspapers printed stories."

"I hope message-by-wire drives the newspapers out of business," Roy said.

Arizona's brows furrowed. "Oh?"

"Newspaper in Blue Stone calls us 'squatters'," Robby said. "Says our farm belongs to the railroad. They's liars!"