Not for some days did Pat get done grumbling at the “waste o’ steam an’ time an’ good cars”; but another event speedily made him change his tune.
“Th’ C. Pay.” were already coming up “th’ U. Pay.” canyon, out of Ogden!
CHAPTER XVII
THE LAST STRETCH
“Th’ C. Pay. are this side o’ Ogden an’ a-comin’ up th’ U. Pay. grade!”
Those were the very words, plainly heard by Terry and George both; but the startling news seemed unbelievable. Pat straightened and gaped.
“What? Say that ag’in. Ye don’t mane the tracks!”
“No; not yit. But, b’ gorry, th’ C. Pay. ingineers have drove their stakes, an’ th’ C. Pay. Mongolians have follered in, an’ th’ dirt’ll soon be flyin’ on two grades instead o’ wan, in the same canyon, jist ahid.”
“An’ where’s their ind o’ track, then? Tell me that,” stammered Pat.
“Wan hunderd an’ fifty mile to th’ west’rd still. Yez’ll bate ’em into Ogden wid th’ rails, but it’s smart they be. For haven’t they thrown their men beyant themselves, to grade clane through Ogden an’ into th’ mountains, so whilst th’ U. Pay. is a-claimin’ to Humboldt Wells, th’ C. Pay.’ll be filin’ a map wid th’ Prisident at Washington claimin’ their own rights, an’ pay accordin’, t’rough th’ Salt Lake Valley.”
“It’s the rails that’ll count,” Pat retorted. “We’ll be first wid the rails—wan continuous line, mark ye—an’ whilst they’re a-comin’ we’ll be still a-goin’.”