Desert Dust Part 4

The conductor came back--a new conductor; stooped familiarly over the barricade and evidently exchanged pleasantries with her.

"Sidney! Sidney! Twenty minutes for breakfast!" the brakeman bawled, from the door.

There was the general stir. My Lady shot a glance at me, with inviting eyes, but arose in response to the proffered arm of the conductor, and I was late. The aisle filled between us as he ushered her on and the train slowed to grinding of brakes and the tremendous clanging of a gong.

Of Sidney there was little to see: merely a station-house and the small Railroad Hotel, with a handful of other buildings forming a single street--all squatting here near a rock quarry that broke the expanse of uninhabited brown plains. The air, however, was wonderfully invigorating; the meal excellent, as usual; and when I emerged from the dining-room, following closely a black figure crowned with gold, I found her strolling alone upon the platform.

Therefore I caught up with her. She faced me with ready smile.

"You are rather slow in action, sir," she lightly accused. "We might have breakfasted together; but it was the conductor again, after all."

"I plead guilty, madam," I admitted. "The trainmen have an advantage over me, in antic.i.p.ating events. But the next meal shall be my privilege. We stop again before reaching Benton?"

"For dinner, yes; at Cheyenne."

"And after that you will be home."

"Home?" she queried, with a little pucker between her brows.

"Yes. At Benton."

"Of course." She laughed shortly. "Benton is now home. We have moved so frequently that I have grown to call almost no place home."

"I judge then that you are connected, as may happen, with a flexible business," I hazarded. "If you are in the army I can understand."

"No, I'm not an army woman; but there is money in following the railroad, and that is our present life," she said frankly. "A town springs up, you know, at each terminus, booms as long as the freight and pa.s.sengers pile up--and all of a sudden the go-ahead business and professional men pull stakes for the next terminus as soon as located. That has been the custom, all the way from North Platte to Benton."

"Which accounts for your acquaintance along the line. The trainmen seem to know you."

"Trainmen and others; oh, yes. It is to be expected. I have no objections to that. I am quite able to take care of myself, sir."

We were interrupted. A near-drunken rowdy (upon whom I had kept an uneasy corner of an eye) had been careening over the platform, a whiskey bottle protruding from the hip pocket of his sagging jeans, a large revolver dangling at his thigh, his slouch hat c.o.c.ked rakishly upon his tousled head. His language was extremely offensive--he had an ugly mood on, but n.o.body interfered. The crowd stood aside--the natives laughing, the tourists like myself viewing him askance, and several Indians watching only gravely.

He sighted us, and staggered in.

"Howdy?" he uttered, with an oath. "Shay--h.e.l.lo, stranger. Have a smile.

Take two, one for lady. Hic!" And he thrust his bottle at me.

My Lady drew back. I civilly declined the "smile."

"Thank you. I do not drink."

"What?" He stared blearily. His tone stiffened. "The h.e.l.l you say. Too tony, eh? Too--'ic! Have a smile, I ask you, one gent to 'nother. Have a smile, you (unmentionable) pilgrim; fer if you don't----"

"Train's starting, Jim," she interposed sharply. "If you want to get aboard you'd better hurry."

The engine tooted, the bell was ringing, the pa.s.sengers were hurrying, incited by the conductor's shout: "All 'board!"

Without another word she tripped for the car steps. I gave the fellow one firm look as he stood stupidly scratching his thatch as if to harrow his ideas; and perforce left him. By the cheers he undoubtedly made in the same direction. I was barely in time myself. The train moved as I planted foot upon the steps of the nearest car--the foremost of the two. The train continued; halted again abruptly, while cheers rang riotous; and when I crossed the pa.s.sageway between this car and ours the conductor and brakeman were hauling the tipsy Jim into safety.

My Lady was ensconced.

"Did they get him?" she inquired, when I paused.

"By the scruff of the neck. The drunken fellow, you mean."

"Yes; Jim."

"You know him?"

"He's from Benton. I suppose he's been down here on a little pasear, as they say."

"If you think he'll annoy you----?" I made bold to suggest, for I greatly coveted the half of her seat.

"Oh, I'm not afraid of Jim. But yes, do sit down. You can put these things back in your seat. Then we can talk."

I had no more than settled triumphantly, when the brakeman ambled through, his face in a broad grin. He also paused, to perch upon the seat end, his arm extended friendlily along the back.

"Well, we got him corralled," he proclaimed needlessly. "That t'rantular juice nigh broke his neck for him."

"Did you take his bottle away, Jerry?" she asked.

"Sure thing. He'll be peaceable directly. Soused to the guards. Reckon he's inclined to be a trifle ugly when he's on a tear, ain't he? They'd shipped him out of Benton on a down train. Now he's going back up."

"He's safe, you think?"

"Sewed tight. He'll sleep it off and be ready for night." The brakeman winked at her. "You needn't fear. He'll be on deck, right side up with care."

"I've told this gentleman that I'm not afraid," she answered quickly.

"Of course. And he knows what's best for him, himself." The brakeman slapped me on the shoulder and good-naturedly straightened. "So does this young gentleman, I rather suspicion. I can see his fortune's made. You bet, if he works it right. I told him if you cottoned to him----"

"Now you're talking too much, Jerry," she reproved. "The gentleman and I are only traveling acquaintances."

"Yes, ma'am. To Benton. Let 'er roar. Cheyenne's the closest I can get, myself, and Cheyenne's a dead one--blowed up, busted worse'n a galvanized Yank with a pocket full o' Confed wall-paper." He yawned. "Guess I'll take forty winks. Was up all night, and a man can stand jest so much, Injuns or no Injuns."

"Did you expect to meet with Indians, sir, along the route?" I asked.

"h.e.l.l, yes. Always expect to meet 'em between Kearney and Julesburg. It's about time they were wrecking another train. Well, so long. Be good to each other." With this parting piece of impertinence he stumped out.

"A friendly individual, evidently," I hazarded, to tide her over her possible embarra.s.sment.

Her laugh a.s.sured me that she was not embarra.s.sed at all, which proved her good sense and elevated her even farther in my esteem.

"Oh, Jerry's all right. I don't mind Jerry, except that his tongue is hung in the middle. He probably has been telling you some tall yarns?"

"He? No, I don't think so. He may have tried it, but his Western expressions are beyond me as yet. In fact, what he was driving at on the rear platform I haven't the slightest idea."

"Driving at? In what way, sir?"