Then the doctor went off to the telegraph office, where Gertrude, weary but alert, was waiting to send the news on to headquarters.
Sam Peters and the miners who had come back on the car entertained the remnant of the crowd with the story of that night’s doings at Camp’s Gulch, and vastly amusing the listeners found the recital, apparently, for they laughed and cheered when they heard how Nell had trapped the burglar who was hidden in the Chinaman’s coffin.
But there was no laughter in the office, where the doctor was writing details for Gertrude to telegraph.
There was no question of the miners who had come back from Camp’s Gulch going on to Roseneath that night, so they all lay down in the waiting-room, and snatched a little slumber so, and were snoring profoundly before Gertrude was ready to lock up her office and go.
The doctor had waited for her until Lytton had got all the information it required, and had sent her word that she might now go off duty until the morning, or rather, seeing that it was morning already, until the proper hour for commencing work had arrived again.
“What a strange sort of night it has been!” she exclaimed, as she went along the dark road with her escort.
“Yes, really an adventurous time for some of us,” he answered, with a laugh, thinking of that wild ride to Camp’s Gulch on the rocking engine.
Gertrude shrugged her shoulders. “I think I prefer monotony to adventure—at least, adventure of this sort. I am thankful I was not in Nell’s place.”
“I also am thankful you were not in her place either,” he answered gravely. With a little flutter at her heart, Gertrude asked—
“Why?”