When McGuire arose and took up his greatcoat, Miss Landon stood up and returned his good night.
“Good night,” said the merchant, and immediately, as if they had been waiting for time; the mirth-makers upon the platform sang:
“Good night, ladies, good night, ladies,
Sweet dreams, ladies—we’re going to leave you now.”
CHAPTER XVIII
BREAKING THE TRAIL
At midnight orders came. The road was open, the wires up, and the delayed train, in three sections, pulled out for the hills. The big pilot plough that had “bucked” the beautiful Miss Landon out of the right-of-way and into the arms of McGuire ran ahead, followed by the Rockaway with two cars, while a couple of heavy mountain-climbers brought up the coaches and sleepers.
McGuire watched, like a faithful slave, at the door of the merchant’s stateroom, for he was hard hit by the hand and eyes of the merchant’s daughter. The heavy car rocked gently on the curves as the big engines, with much slipping and sanding, toiled to the summit of Cerro Hill. In a little while they were rolling along the banks of the Gunnison, and the silent river was slipping past them under the snow. At sunrise, having toiled up another long, hard hill, the train stood at the crest of the continent, ten thousand feet above the sea.
McGuire regretted that the old gentleman had taken a drawing-room, for when they had a section in the body of the car, the conductor could see the beautiful woman as he passed up and down. Now, if she chose to do so, she could isolate herself utterly. While the grim drivers were oiling round, the young lady appeared upon the platform, smiled at McGuire, and asked him to help her down.
“Papa’s still sleeping, and I don’t want to miss the view.”