And so was Shep. Shep usually tried to go wherever Terry went—except, of course, when guns were banging too recklessly.
The men were still up, in the rear or office end of the headquarters car, talking together.
“The rest of us won’t turn in till we’re back at North Platte,” the general explained. “I’ve had a bunk opened for you, up forward. Do you think you can sleep?”
“Yes, sir. I can always sleep,” Terry assured.
“All right. Good night. You won’t miss much. We’ll probably lie over at North Platte till morning.”
The bunk was a clever arrangement. During the day it was folded against the side of the car and nobody would know it was there. At night it was let down, and hung flat with a curtain in front of it. The car probably had several such bunks. They were something new, the invention of a Mr. Pullman; and when Terry climbed into his, he found it mighty comfortable. Shep curled underneath, between the seats.
Lying snug and warm, Terry prepared to calm himself, and sleep; but the future looked very bright. He caught his thoughts surging ahead, upon the survey trip half promised by the general: maybe clear to Utah, exploring and finding George and the Bates party. Hooray! Indians, bear and buffalo, new country—! Pshaw! He was getting wide awake. He ought to sleep. So he began to figure.
Over 300 miles, so far, by the Union Pacific, in the two years and a quarter; 700 miles yet to Salt Lake, and then as much farther as they could get before meeting the Central! The general had planned to lay nearly 300 miles more—288 anyway—this year! Whew! Forty car-loads of supplies to every mile; 400 rails and 2,650 ties to every mile; ten spikes to each rail, three blows of the sledge to each spike—then how many rails, how many ties, how many sledge blows, how many galloping charges back and forth of Jenny and the little truck, to cross plains and deserts and mountains and win the race with the Central?
This tour by train was going to be nice enough, but it seemed tame compared with end o’ track work, and with surveying. And the laying of the track looked to be such a big job that perhaps General Casement couldn’t spare him again. Shucks!
While figuring and bothering, Terry fell asleep. He did not know that his trip east and back was not going to be as tame as it appeared in advance.