The traveling man looked out of the window and said, “We’ll hit Emigrant
pretty soon if it’s still there. The cyclones out here blow the villages
around so half the time the engineer don’t know where to look for them.
I remember Barker’s Corners used to be right behind a big tree in
Montana and it got blown away and they found it two years afterward in
Arizona.”
CHAPTER XXXV
THE STRANGER
Emigrant. The last stop on the long, long journey from New York. The
last stop till the thundering train would reach the Gardiner entrance of
the Yellowstone National Park. They were within thirty miles of that
wonderland.
Westy was glad that there was one more station to be reached before his
dream should be a reality. His nerves were so much on edge that the one,
poor, little station of Emigrant would act as a sort of valve to relieve
him of the tension that he felt. He was glad that they weren’t going to
reach their destination quite yet—he was too excited. Yes, he was glad
there was just one more station. Then, _then_——
As for the traveling man, he seemed to be about as excited and
anticipatory as if he were strolling across the street to buy another
cigar.
The train thundered along through the rugged Montana country, its
screeching whistle now and again echoing from the towering mountains.
On, on, on it rushed with a kind of disdainful preoccupation, going
straight about its business, circling the frowning heights, crossing
torrents, unhindered, invincible. Did anybody live or even venture in
those wild mountains, Westy wondered. Were there trails there? Could it
be that grizzly bears heard in their fastnesses the shriek of that steel
monster that was rushing straight to its end?
Only this roaring, swerving, thundering, rushing train stood between
Westy Martin and those uninhabited wilds. No smudge signal would save
him there. No approved device for helping the lost pilgrim in distress
would serve him in that endless, rugged wilderness. The leather seat of
the smoking car seemed good to him.
“Who’s going to look after you kids?” their traveling acquaintance
asked.
The boys, particularly Warde, did not like to hear it put that way but
he answered, “The auto is going to meet us at Gardiner; there’s a scout
official who’s going to be there and they’ll call our names out. They’re
going to take us to the hotel at Mammoth Hot Springs. After that we go
on a kind of a tour. It’s all planned out for us.”
“Well, I’ll be with you as far as the Springs,” said the stranger, “so
if you don’t make connections all right I’ll get things fixed up for
you. How the dickens did you three kids happen to beat it out here
anyway?”
“If we told you, you’d only laugh,” said Ed Carlisle. “We did some
stunts, that’s how. We——”
“Don’t you tell him unless he tells us what _he’s_ doing out here,”
Warde said.
“All right, that’s a go,” laughed the stranger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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