"Thank you," says Erma warmly. "I'll go and prepare it at once." Then leaving Lot still pondering, she steps lightly away, and in a few minutes returns with the following: "U. P. TRAIN, _Oct. 3, 1871_. "Arrive at Ogden, to-morrow, at five P.M. Will come through to Salt Lake same night. Meet me at depot. "Your loving daughter, "ERMA TRAVENION." "You'll add the right address to this when you find it, Mr. Kruger," says the girl, handing him the message. "Yes, I'll make inquiries at Medicine Bow," returns Lot, taking the message, "and your dad'll get it to-morrow morning." "Oh, you are going to stay up to send it? We don't get to Medicine Bow till late, I know by my time table. How kind you are! Papa shall thank you for this, also, dear Mr. Kruger," and Erma holds out a soft patrician hand, that is greedily seized in strong fingers made hard and red by exposure and toil. Retreating from the grip, however, this New York young lady says earnestly, "Thank you once more, and _au revoir_ until to-morrow." "Oh, thank me all you want, Sissy; gratitude becomes young maidens," mutters Lot, trying to get the beautiful white fingers once more in his. "Indeed I am grateful," cries the girl, and giving him a look that makes his eyes grow misty and watery, Miss Travenion closes the door of her stateroom, and goes to bed thinking no more of Mr. Kruger's peculiar expression and glances, for he is a friend of her father, and at the least has fifty odd years to his credit on the book of time. She would be perhaps more concerned about her father's friend did she see Mr. Kruger, whose knowledge of French is very limited, after pondering to himself, "What did that gal mean by O-ver?" finally answer his query by "Guess ag'in, Lot," and betake himself to the smoking car, where, after perusing the girl's telegram several times, he slyly chuckles to himself, "What!--and spile my hopes for myself and my work for the Church?" and with this curious but ambiguous remark places the document coolly in his ample but well-worn pocketbook, between a list of Welsh emigrants _en route_ for Salt Lake City and a despatch from Brigham Young; and shortly after that turn in and sleep the sleep of the just, making no attempt either to find her father's address nor to wire her message, either at Medicine Bow or any other point on the line. Notwithstanding this, the next morning at Green River, where the train stops for breakfast, Mr. Kruger is on hand to help her from the car and say with paternal voice, "Sissy, Dad's happy now. Dad's happy now!" "Ah, you've sent the message," exclaims Erma with grateful eyes.