So they pass a very happy evening--the young lady singing a song or two for her swain, more beautifully, he thinks, than any prima donna, and saying good-night to him afterwards so tenderly that Lawrence, coming to his own car, astonishes the negro porter by giving him five dollars for making up his bed in the stateroom which is unoccupied, and more roomy than a section. A moment after he murmurs to himself: "Can it be? Is it possible?"--and then cries, "Good gracious! the engagement ring--and no jeweller in sight!" And so he goes to bed, to be awakened by a voice in the night that changes confidence into doubt, and makes joy into sorrow. Harry has hardly been in bed an hour when there is a rap on the door of his stateroom. "Hang you!" he cries, thinking it is the negro porter. "I've left my boots outside. What are you waking me up for at this time of night?" "'Ssh! don't talk so loud, Cap! Let me in!" And opening the door, Mr. Powers makes his appearance, his eyes, in the moonlight that is streaming in, large, luminous, and excited. He gasps: "Cap--come--an' save your girl!" As Buck speaks, Lawrence is out of bed. "Quick!" he says. "You know in my baggage car I hear most of what's goin' on. Them teamsters that came here with the grub are camping in there to-night. I heard them talking. They're Mormons!" "Ah!" "Buck Mormons from Echo and Heber, and that way. One of them said to the other, 'The bishop will be along soon. The orders is, we're none of us to make a move, but to have the sleighs ready to start out quick, and one fixed with furs in it and blankets, to keep the girl warm.'" "What makes you think they meant Miss Travenion?" "They described her." "Did you hear the name of the bishop?" "Yes," answers Buck. "It was the cuss who came West with you and her!" "Kruger!--Hush! Speak lower! Whisper to me!" "I am a-whisperin'!" says the boy. "It's the lowest I've got. I've spoilt my voice hollerin' as news-agent, an' I can't bring it down!" "Are the Mormon teamsters armed?" "They ain't Mormon teamers. Some of them is disguised. I heard one of them call another 'Constable,' and the other chinned him as 'Sheriff.' Hadn't we better tell the conductor?" "No," says Lawrence, shortly, for he remembers the conductor is a routine man--and, of course, of no use in such an emergency. A moment after, he says quietly to the boy: "Miss Travenion was very good to you, Buck. Will you help me save her?" "That's what I come for.". "It may be a life and death matter." "That's what I come for." "Very well," replies Harry. "You go quietly about the train--they won't notice you--and find out what you can, and come and report to me, in Miss Travenion's car. I am going there." "All right." As Buck turns to obey his orders, Lawrence suddenly whispers: "No matter what happens, don't let any one of that gang learn I am on the train." "I understand!" Then the captain asks suddenly, "How many of them?" "Twelve!" "Good God!"