There was one other passenger on the stage, Tom Baxter. Claire�s father had sent him along to escort Claire to her aunt�s house. Slim suspected Tom was only there because Jess was there. It would be just like Claire�s father to have someone guard his daughter. Though the way Claire was hanging onto Jess, Slim was of the opinion that it was Claire who needed the watching, not Jess.
Slim had never liked Tom, yet he couldn�t help but admire him. Tom had grown up in Laramie. His Pa had drunk more than worked. Tom�s education had been spent more at a saloon than at a schoolhouse. Still Tom had managed to get a job at the bank, first as a teller. Now he was an assistant to Claire�s father. He was still rough around the edges, but Slim noticed that he never saw Tom without a book. A copy of Mark Twain�s �Tom Sawyer� now rested on Tom�s lap. Slim longed to read that book, and felt a small amount of envy that Tom owned it.
Tom was almost as tall as Slim. That was the only similarity. Tom always wore a suit, even on his days off. Slim had donned a jacket for this ride, but nothing as expensive as what Tom was wearing. Slim felt crunched sitting between Em and Tom. Slim knew that it would be more practical for the two women to sit on the same seat. But he suspected if he offered that suggestion both Em and Jess would bolt from the stage.
