At this juncture, the shrill whistle of the approaching train was heard, and this fact enabled the detective to decline the proffered beverage. After a hearty hand-shake from the nervous little clothier, Manning sprang upon the train and in a few moments later he was on his way to Miles City.
CHAPTER XIX.
From Bismarck to Bozeman—The Trail Growing Warmer—Duncan Buys a Pony—A Long Stage Ride.
The distance from Bismarck to Miles City is about three hundred miles, and as Manning left the former place early in the evening, he secured a couch in the comfortable sleeping car, and shortly afterward retired to rest. It seemed almost incredible the giant strides which had been made in a few years in the process of civilization in our western country. But yesterday the ground which our operative was now traveling in comfort, was overrun by the Indian and the wild beasts of the forest, and to-day along his entire route were rising up substantial towns and villages, bringing in their wake the enlightening influences of education and morality. The railroad, that mighty agent of civilization, is rapidly forging a chain of communication between the two great oceans, and travel in the western wilds, formerly fraught with hardships and dangers unspeakable, is now performed with rapidity, comfort and safety. In the morning the train stopped at Little Missouri, where the passengers were refreshed with breakfast, then on again past Sentinel Butte, they left the boundaries of Dakota and entered the great territory of Montana. On again like the rush of the wind, until about five o'clock in the afternoon, they arrived at Miles City, where the train was to remain nearly two hours, before continuing their journey.
Miles City was another striking illustration of the wonderful growth of American towns. Less than a year ago, a barren waste marked the spot where now was growing a thriving city. The railroad, as in other localities, had played an important part in awakening this uninhabited region to life and activity. The trackless, boundless prairie had been reclaimed, and was now a flourishing city, full of bustle and vigor. Making his way to a neat and comfortable hotel, which bore the rather euphonious title of St. Cloud, Manning partook of a substantial meal and then set about his investigations. He soon found news of the object of his inquiries. From the proprietor of the St. Cloud, he learned that Duncan had remained here two days, and upon the register he saw the now well-known signature of Tom Moore of Chicago. He had informed the inn-keeper of his intention of going to Bozeman, a town lying to the north of the Crow Reservation.
Manning resolved, therefore, to press right on, and he returned to the railroad station, where the train was still waiting. Purchasing a ticket for Billings, he started again on his way, and at nearly midnight he arrived at his destination, where he secured quarters for the night.
Billings was, at this time, the terminal point of the Northern Pacific railroad, and as the detective sought the open air on the following morning, he was amazed at the scenes that were presented to his view. The place was literally swarming with people. Prospectors, land-buyers, traders, merchants, and a miscellaneous army of railroad men were everywhere. No time had been afforded in which to build suitable structures for housing the ever-increasing population, and the town presented the appearance of a huge encampment; nearly one-half of the city being composed of canvas tents. In the hotels, on the corners of the streets, and in the places of business, the universal topic of conversation was the phenomenal growth of the city, and the grand prospects which the future had in store for this embryotic western metropolis. Along the railroad, a perfect army of workmen were assembled, awaiting their orders for the day. Graders, tie-men, track-layers and construction corps, were already on the spot, and they too seemed imbued with the same spirit of enthusiasm which filled their more wealthy and ambitious neighbors in the city. As may readily be imagined, crime and immorality followed hand in hand with the march of improvement. The gambler and the harlot plied their vocations in the full light of day, and as yet unrebuked by the ruling powers of a community, too newly located to assume the dignity of enacting laws.
The detective made his way through the streets, mentally noting these things, while his efforts were directed to finding some trace of Thomas Duncan. He made a systematic tour of the hotels, or more properly speaking, the boarding-houses with which the town was filled, and after numerous disappointments, was at last successful in learning something definite of the movements of his man. At a hotel called the "Windsor," he found the unmistakable signature he was looking for, and was convinced that Tom Moore of Chicago had preceded him but a few days. Exhibiting his talismanic photograph to the proprietor, he was informed that Duncan had been there some ten days before, and after remaining a day or two, had gone over to the military cantonments, some four or five miles distant, where a detachment of United States soldiers were quartered.
Procuring a horse, Manning started for the cantonment, where he was kindly received by Major Bell, the officer in charge, who informed him that Duncan had been there some days before, and that he had remained about the camp for several days, playing cards with the soldiers and enjoying himself generally. During his stay he had purchased a pony from a Crow Indian, and while he was at the cantonment he rode into Billings and bought a Sharp's repeating rifle, after which he had mounted his horse and rode off in the direction of Fort Custer. He had remained away several days when he again returned to the cantonment, and after remaining there one night, he had started on horseback for Bozeman and Helena.