"You must take it!" cries Harry. "You will probably be laid off for last night's work!"
"What? For running away from road agents?"
"Running away from sheriff's officers!"
"From officers of the law?" gasps the man of the throttle. Then he cries out suddenly: "They'll discharge me! You've ruined me and my child with your infernal lies!" and he looks at Lawrence with angry eyes.
But Harry says cheerfully: "If they discharge you, this young lady will give you enough money to buy a farm in Kansas. If she doesn't, I will! Besides," he continues, hoping to soothe the man's fears, "though those fellows we escaped from were Mormon officers, they were acting as bandits, and had no more legal right to do what they were doing in Wyoming, than road agents! I'll give you a bond for the money, if necessary, when we get to the station."
This promise, and the one hundred dollars in hand, makes the engineer feel more comfortable, as they run alongside the passenger train at Granger. Here many questions are asked them, and in return they discover the wires are still down towards Evanston, and there are, of course, no orders from division headquarters.
At this place Lawrence arranges for the transportation of the boy's body to the East, for he is very anxious to get it out of Miss Travenion's sight, who sits in the locomotive cab, half dazed, though when she looks upon what was once Buck Powers, she sometimes mutters with a shudder: "This time yesterday he was alive and happy—and now he's dead—for me," and fondles the boy's cold hand.
Lawrence is thus compelled to tell the story of the night's happenings, which he does to the station agent, who acts as constable at this place. This official looks serious, and rubs his head, and says: "Hanged if I know what I'd better do! Buck got his death killing the infernal Mormon in Uintah County, and this is Sweetwater! I guess you'd better take the young lady on to Green River, and then if they want you back for a coroner's inquest, or to try you for murder, you can go to Evanston, if you can get there—which looks almighty dubious just about now," for another snow-storm seems to be blowing up.
Thinking it best to follow the man's advice, and a locomotive being compelled to go to Green River, though the wires are still down to division headquarters, and consequently no orders, Lawrence takes the opportunity, and succeeds, about one o'clock in the day, in getting his sweetheart to the comforts of the Green River station, where there is quite a town, a pleasant hotel, and plenty to eat. For all the stations he has run by this day, at that time were but little more than telegraph offices and water tanks, with freight-house attachments at some of them, and have not much increased in size or importance, even to this day.
At Green River, snow comes upon them again, and the yard gets full of trains, though none leave for the East; for the Union Pacific is beginning to appreciate what the great blockade of 1871 means.