“And you would not have allowed him to do what he did had you known it?”
“I haven’t said that nor do I say it now; what I do say is that I am much pleased to bid you good morning.”
With which curt dismissal, Garret Chadwick turned about and gave his attention to the starting of the train, which was in motion a few minutes later.
Repulsed and turned back at all points Alden was in an unenviable frame of mind. He knew he had acted inexcusably toward Mr. Chadwick, and he would have apologized had the opportunity been given. Had he decided to go with his party to the next station, he could not do so after these words. He wandered back to the station where he sat down on one of the stools that had been brought outside and gloomily watched the lumbering wagons as they swung slowly westward under the strenuous pull of the oxen.
The result of all this dismal cogitation was the decision that there remained but the single thing to do: he must wait at the station until the arrival of the train under Shagbark’s guidance.
“He ought to be here by to-night or to-morrow forenoon. Before that, Chadwick and his party will be at the next station, and so many miles ahead of us that we shan’t overtake them this side of Salt Lake City, if we do even there.
“Ross Brandley is running away from me!” exclaimed Alden slapping his knee; “there isn’t a doubt of it. He knew that if he stayed in camp nothing would prevent our meeting to-day, so he made the excuse of wishing to carry the mail to the next station. When he gets there he’ll wait for his friends, and be gone long before we can come up with him.”
And this conclusion did not add to the young man’s peace of mind. He must pass the dragging hours as best he could until the arrival of his friends. He rose to his feet with the intention of taking the back trail to meet them, but gave over the plan when he reflected that the breadth of the route made it very easy for him to miss them.
“It would be my luck to do so,” he growled; “everything goes wrong with me.”