Chapter Twenty-NineDixon packed his few things in a bedroll and paused for a moment to look along the barrack room. The twin line of bunks, on either side of a narrow passageway, were all empty. Few soldiers billeted there and now, in the cold of the morning, it seemed a lonely and forlorn place. He shuddered despite himself and went out, unable to shrug off the feeling of gloom settling over him.
Outside, the square rang with the everyday bustle he had come to accept. Trappers, traders, pioneers, trudged through on foot, rode astride mangy-looking mules, or guided clapped-out wagons towards the over-burdened merchant store. Fort Bridger was the last place of safety for two days, until the trail reached Glory, and nobody wanted to take anything for granted traversing the open plain. Stori
