When John Stuart Webster, mining engineer and kicker-up-of-dust on distant trails, flagged the S.P.L.A. and S.L. Limited at a blistered board station in Death Valley, California, he had definitely resolved to do certain things. To begin, he would invade the dining car at the first call to dinner and order approximately twenty dollars' worth of ham and eggs, which provender is, as all who know will certify, the pinnacle of epicurean delight to an old sourdough coming out of the wilderness with a healthy bankroll and a healthier appetite; for even as the hydrophobic dog avoids water, so does the adventurer of the Webster type avoid the weird concoctions of high-priced French chefs until he has first satisfied that void which yawns to receive ham and eggs.