The snow is still falling heavily on the tracks, and the Central Pacific is behind time. Finally, getting a telegram that the train on the more western road has been detained by snow on the Sierra Nevada and Pequop Mountains, and is ten hours late, the Union Pacific pulls out of the station, one hour behind its time.
Just then the privacy of Miss Travenion's stateroom is invaded by Buck Powers, on his business tour through the train.
He says in resonant voice: "How are you off for peanuts? They're the only fruit that's in season now."
"I don't wish any," she replies, quietly.
"Won't you have some candy, or chewing gum? You look as if you needed somethin'."
Seeing this is declined by a shake of the head, he suggests: "That fire must have given you the blues, like it did me."
"What do you mean?" asks Erma, a little startled.
"Why," cries Buck, "don't you know it's been burnt down six weeks? There ain't no Chicago, but it made the highest old fire the world has ever seen."
"Oh, that's what you're referring to!" murmurs the young lady, who in her own troubles has failed to remember the destruction of the great Western city. Then she astounds the news-agent by adding, "I had forgotten that it was burnt."
"You—had—forgotten—the Chicago fire! Great Scott! You'd do for a museum!" he gasps. Then he says interrogatively: "You remember me, Buck Powers, don't you?"