“He wasn’t so bad, though,” said Ethel. “Did you know he and his sister—that middle-aged woman who travels with him—are actors? Well, he was telling me about some of his experiences and it really was quite interesting. Still, I wasn’t sorry when you rescued me, Marj.”
“Come, girls!” said Lily, consulting her watch. “I hate to break up the party, but we simply must go!”
The journey from Chicago to St. Paul was uneventful, but after they had passed through the latter, the girls began to notice real indications of the West. Now and then, at stations, they caught sight of a broad-brimmed hat with a leather strap for a band; they saw many riders over the prairies, and innumerable cattle. And here, too the girls noticed a change in the air. Just as one becomes conscious of the damp, salt air of the seaside some miles before the ocean is even in view, so the pure, dry air of the mountains began to make itself felt. The sun was clear and bright, casting sharp black shadows from objects like those cast by electric lights.
The girls were so impressed with the vastness of the landscape that they often sat gazing out of the window for a long time without saying anything. The scarcity of trees, the rarity of houses, and the total absence of fences seemed strange; then the appearance of a small town, twenty or thirty miles from the last, would again attract their attention.
When they had finally reached Dakota, they had their first good view of the cowboys. Their large felt hats with the broad brims, their fancy “chaps,” or overalls made of calves’ skin or of hair, their boots with high heels, and big red handkerchiefs about their necks made them appear most picturesque. When Marjorie actually spied one with a fancy pistol with a carved ivory handle and gold mountings, she burst into laughter.
“Imagine being that vain!” she remarked to Walter Brooks. “I always said men were worse than women!”
“Well, maybe they are,” laughed the young man, good-naturedly. He was thinking of something else, and willingly agreed to anything.
“Time for dinner!” called Alice, opening the door of the sitting-room compartment. “Come on, everybody!”
“Miss Wilkinson,” asked Walter, “may I request a favor? Could I sit here to finish a letter while you girls eat? I can’t find a private place, away from that infernal brother of mine, in the whole train!”
“Certainly!” laughed Marjorie. “But when you go out, pull the door to, and I’ll take my key.”