Ogden, now the stopping point on the Pacific Railroad for Salt Lake City, and about forty miles north of it, was then a smart little town of perhaps 1200 inhabitants, and rapidly growing larger. It was Salt Lake City over again, on a reduced scale, but evidently patterning after it, both in plan and detail. Its streets were broad and rectangular; its irrigating streams, clear and cold from the neighboring cañons; its houses, adobe or frame; and its yards and gardens, a mass of beauty and luxuriance. A general air of industry and thriftiness pervaded the little community. Everybody appeared to be constantly at work, though not very hard work. And, indeed, so far as material comfort was concerned, there seemed little ground for criticism. The supervisor and main-spring of the whole was Bishop West--a burly active man of forty, with three buxom wives, and a house-full of well-graduated children. He was a live, go-ahead business man, with little or nothing of the sacerdotal about him--owned the mill, store, and hotel there, and managed them all with rare shrewdness and energy. His hotel was a comfortable two-story adobe house, with shingle roof, and was remarkably well kept for a country tavern, all things considered. He was a heavy contractor with the stage-line, to deliver grain along at the stations between Salt Lake and Boisè City, and Mr. Halsey concluded to stop over one night to see and confer with him. He received us with generous hospitality, and was soon conversing freely upon all matters relating to Utah, aside from Mormonism. He little suspected then the good luck in store for him, by the oncoming of the Pacific Railroad, which has doubtless made him a millionaire, if he was not approaching that before. Salt Lake was then depending on the Railroad coming there, and doubtless was grievously disappointed, when it left her "out in the cold"--forty miles to the South.[13]