“There’s trouble all up and down the line,” he said. “Nothing like a schedule left west of Allbright. Two passenger trains have come through, though. Would you like to see a paper? It’s in my office.”
“Goodness, no! Why should I want a newspaper here? I haven’t time for it. I want to see the world”—she swept a little, indicating hand about her; “all that I can take in in a day.”
“A day?” he echoed.
“Yes. I’m going to-morrow.”
“That’s as may be. Ten to one there’s no space to be had.”
“Surely you can get something for me. A section will do if you can’t get a stateroom.”
He smiled. “The president of the road might get a stateroom. I doubt if anybody else could even land an upper. Of course I’ll do my best. But it’s a question when there’ll be another train through.”
“What ails your road?” she demanded indignantly. “Is it just stuck together with glue?”
“You’ve never seen this desert country when it springs a leak. It can develop a few hundred Niagaras at the shortest notice of any place I know.”
“But it isn’t leaking now,” she objected.