“Oh! no,” cried the girl, shrinking back, “I must run away. You're mighty kind, but I daren't go with you.” Detecting a shade of doubt in his eye, she added: “Don't be afeared; I'll die before they'll know I've given them away to you!” and she disappeared in the darkness.
At the other end of the wire, the superintendent had quietly impressed secrecy on his operator and clerk, ordered his fast mare harnessed, and gone to his private office.
“Read that!” said he to his secretary. “It was about time for some trouble of this kind, and now I'm going to let Uncle Sam take care of his mails. If I don't get to the reservation before the General's turned in, I shall have to wake him up. Wait for me, please.”
The gray mare made the six miles to the military reservation in just half an hour. The General was smoking his last cigar, and was alert in an instant; and before the superintendent had finished the jorum of “hot Scotch” hospitably tendered, the orders had gone by wire to the commanding officer at Fort ———, some distance east of Barker's, and been duly acknowledged.
Returning to the station, the superintendent remarked to the waiting secretary:
“The General's all right. Of course we can't tell that this is not a sell; but if those Perry hounds mean business they'll get all the fight they want—and if they've got any souls—which I doubt—may the Lord have mercy on them!”
He prepared several despatches, two of which were as follows:
Mr. Henry Sinclair: “On No. 17, Pawnee Junction: This
telegram your authority to take charge of train on which you
are, and demand obedience of all officials and trainmen on
road. Please do so, and act in accordance with information
wired station agent at Pawnee Junction.”
To the Station Agent: “Reported Perry gang will try wreck
and rob No. 17 near —xth mile-post, Denver Division, about
nine Thursday night. Troops will await train at Fort ——.
Car ordered ready for them. Keep everything secret,
and act in accordance with orders of Mr. Sinclair.”
“It's worth about ten thousand dollars,” sententiously remarked he, “that Sinclair's on that train. He's got both sand and brains. Goodnight,” and he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just.