The girls thrilled at the thought of Evelyn. What might not have happened to her since she had been compelled to return to Utah.
“Perhaps her father has made her marry a Mormon,” suggested Mary in an awed tone of voice.
“Or shut her in a dungeon,” pursued Nancy, who had a vague idea such things might take place in this strange city.
“It’s like the story of the wicked king and the princess,” here put in Elinor, her thoughts running on royal blood as usual.
The girls smiled, but the notion was a disquieting one at any rate and Billie began silently to calculate how long it would take before they could reach Salt Lake City, weather and Comet permitting.
“I wish—I wish——” she began, but the whistle of a locomotive interrupted her.
“It’s the express,” exclaimed one of the girls.
“It’s going to stop.”
“But there’s no station.”
“A man is flagging it, don’t you see. It’s the track walker, I suppose. Perhaps something is the matter ahead.”