“Or for vagrancy; or on suspicion of having robbed a bank in Texas, or murdered your great-grandmother in Tasmania. The point is, he'll keep you locked up till this trouble has blown over.”
“Well,” said Hal, “I don't want to be locked up. I want to go up to Western City. I'm waiting for the train.”
“You may have to wait till morning,” replied Keating. “There's been trouble on the railroad—a freight-car broke down and ripped up the track; it'll be some time before it's clear.”
They discussed this new problem back and forth. MacKellar wanted to get in half a dozen friends and keep guard over Hal during the night; and Hal had about agreed to this idea, when the discussion was given a new turn by a chance remark of Keating's. “Somebody else is tied up by the railroad accident. The Coal King's son!”
“The Coal King's son?” echoed Hal.
“Young Percy Harrigan. He's got a private car here—or rather a whole train. Think of it—dining-car, drawing-room car, two whole cars with sleeping apartments! Wouldn't you like to be a son of the Coal King?”
“Has he come on account of the mine-disaster?”
“Mine-disaster?” echoed Keating. “I doubt if he's heard of it. They've been on a trip to the Grand Canyon, I was told; there's a baggage-car with four automobiles.”
“Is Old Peter with them?”
“No, he's in New York. Percy's the host. He's got one of his automobiles out, and was up in town—two other fellows and some girls.”