Even as he looks, hope comes, for he sees the glow of one of the locomotives on the Y, and knows that its fires are still banked—it has a little steam; and he remembers, the line is clear of trains to Green River.

Then he whispers suddenly to Buck, who says: "I understand!" and goes cautiously away, while Lawrence struggles through the snow-drifts to the helping locomotive, the one nearest the switch that leads to the main track running to the East.

The engineer, who is a careful man, and has a pride in his machine, is still with his engine, and Harry is delighted to see he is the one whose heart Erma has won by kindness to his child.

"I was rubbing her up a little, Cap," he says. "I want to be sure she's all ready for to-morrow's work."

"Is she ready for to-night's work?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," answers Lawrence, who has looked the man over, and concludes it is better to lie to him than to argue with him, "that there are road agents on the train."

For a moment the man looks at him in unbelief, then there is a little noise and commotion about the sleepers, and he cries: "My God! my child!"

"Your child is safe. Buck is bringing her over!" says Harry, pointing at the figure of the boy, half leading, half carrying the little girl through the snow. "Any way," he goes on, "they would have done nothing to her; it's the other one they want, the heiress!"

"What! that beautiful girl that kept my little one from starving? We must save her!" cries the engineer, getting hold of his own darling from Buck, who has come up.

"We will!" whispers Lawrence. "Those road agents will only trouble her and Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express. The express must take care of itself—we'll take care of the girl!"

"But how?"

"By running her down to safety on your locomotive!"

"Great goodness! I never thought of that!" replies the man of the throttle-valve.

A moment after, he says: "I haven't got coal to reach further than Granger."

"That'll do! Get up steam as fast as you can, but don't let anybody see you're at work on your locomotive."

With these words, Lawrence goes into consultation with the engineer and Mr. Powers as to the details of the transaction.

It is arranged that Harry is to do the work of the fireman, who is on the train, and whom they dare not take the risk of arousing; Buck is to turn the switch to put the locomotive on the main track, and to board them as they pass him, which they will do very quietly.

Leaving the engineer quietly making his preparations, Lawrence walks cautiously across, not towards Miss Travenion's car, but towards the sleeper behind it—the one he occupies.

From that he cautiously approaches the other, looks in, and finds it empty of all save Miss Travenion, who has apparently hurriedly dressed, and is seated, confronted by two men, who evidently have her in their keeping, as one says: "Don't be scared; we'll take good care of you, even if you have been tryin' to rob the Mormon Church!"

Catching these words in the outer darkness of the rear compartment, Lawrence knows that Kruger has already had his say, and for some reason left the girl. Harry is glad of this, for feeling the revolver in his belt, he fears he might have killed the Mormon, which would probably not have saved either himself or his sweetheart.

In this he is doubtless right. For while he has been holding conference with the engineer, Kruger, followed by four or five of his satellites, and accompanied by the conductor, who is expostulating with him, has entered the car.

"Now, ye keep quiet!" he says to that official. "We've got a warrant for this young lady, for assistin' her daddy to run away with half a million dollars' worth of Utah Central stock. There's the documents, sworn to by the sheriff of Heber City, Utah, before a Probate Judge."

"A Utah judge has got no jurisdiction in Wyoming," answers the conductor.

"No! But this is made returnable," says Lot, "before the United States District Judge, and Wyoming's part of his district, and that gives us authority. Don't step in the way of the law, young man. Besides"—here he looks round at his following, and remarks: "We're goin' to execute this warrant any way, an' ye ain't got the power to stop us! I've sized ye up, an' ye've got two nigger porters, two brakesmen, an' yerself. We've twelve men armed with Winchesters, an' we've got the drop on yer train-hands, mail agent, an' Wells, Fargo's messenger, for they're surrounded and cut off from ye. Now the sheriff's goin' to serve his papers."

At this moment, the negro porter, who has just awakened, flies out of the car shrieking: "For de Lord! Road agents!"

"Ye see how much good he'd do ye!" guffaws Kruger to the conductor. "Now," he continues, "ye step back an' let me do my business polite!"

"Not unless you agree to report with the young lady at Evanston, before you take her into Utah," says the dethroned autocrat of the train.

"That we will do, certain!" replies Lot, with a wink to the sheriff. "Now ye wake her up."

Thus commanded, the conductor raps upon Miss Travenion's stateroom door, and to her inquiries, asks her to dress herself, stating there are some gentlemen on business, who must see her at once.

"Very well! Let them wait!" answers the young lady quietly, though there is a tremor in her voice.

She keeps them waiting so long that one of the men mutters: "The gal must be rigging herself out for a dance," and Lot himself knocks on her stateroom door, saying, "Miss Ermie, come out quick! It's Kruger, yer daddy's friend, who's talkin' to ye."

"You here?" she cries through the door. "What has happened to my father, that you come to me?"

And he says: "The sheriff here has got a little business with ye. Yer daddy has disappeared."

"A—ah!" And it's all she can do to keep from bursting out and upbraiding him, telling him what she knows, and so ruining the chance Lawrence is preparing for her.

"Yes, yer daddy has gone, and the Utah Central stock that belonged to the Mormon Church has gone with him, an' the sheriff here thinks it's in yer possession, and has sworn out a warrant agin ye, an' is here to execute it. An' I come along with him to make it as light for ye, as possible. He thought ye'd got clean away from him, but heerd the train was stopped here by snow, an' so he come on to get ye. But before he takes ye, I want to tell ye a few little things. Come out!"

Then hearing the noise of the moving bolt in Erma's door, Kruger says to the men with him: "Just step back a leetle into the smoking-room, while I talk to the girl."

"All right, bishop!" answers the sheriff, who seems entirely under Lot's domination.

The men withdraw as Erma comes out and stands before Bishop Kruger, her beauty perhaps at this moment appealing to him more than it ever did—for excitement has added a lustre to her eye, and she seems so helpless, and so much in his power.

He mutters, his eyes blinking a little at the radiance that is before him: "Now, Ermie, ye can make everything quite easy for yerself!"

"Indeed—how?" She tries very hard to conceal it, but some scorn will get into her voice.

"By givin' up the stock quiet!"

"Ah! then you will let me go?"

"Oh, no! The sheriff wouldn't do that; but when he takes ye back to Utah, I'll go bail for ye, an' I'll take ye down to my home in Kammas Prairie, where ye'll be nice an' comfortable, an' I'll look after ye."

"You are always very good to me," says the girl with a sneer, though he doesn't detect it, and replies: "Yes, I'll be better to ye than ye know!"

And she, trying to act her part, to prevent any suspicion in his mind, thanks him with so much apparent heartiness that the old satyr loses his head, and chuckles: "Now, that's the right kind o' talk. Now yer lookin' beautiful as one o' the angels of Zion. I've been havin' my eye on ye, an' I'm goin' to exalt ye, an' take ye into my family."

"Take me into your family—as a daughter?"

"No, as a wife, for I love ye!"

And looking to her like an ogre, he would advance to her, whispering: "By this kiss of peace, I take ye into my family!"

But she has forgotten to act now, and scorn is in her eye, hatred in her voice, and loathing in her shudder. She says hoarsely: "Back! don't dare to sully me by the touch of your finger! I loathe you as I do your iniquitous church!"

"Ye blasphemer!" he cries. "This is the second time. I'll be hard on ye now, an' bring ye down from yer high horse. Where's that stock of the Utah Central?"

"Find it!" jeers Erma.

"I will!" he answers, "and then I'll make ye sorry ye turned yer nose up at Lot Kruger!"

Raising his voice, he shouts: "Sheriff, come in an' take yer prisoner, an' make a search of her baggage! She's got the stolen goods with her, I reckon!"

A second later the girl is placed under arrest.

But a quick though thorough search of the baggage she has with her, shows that the Utah Central stock, that Kruger knows the Mormon Church must have, is not in her possession.

He says: "Sheriff, step off a leetle; I'll reason with this child, to see if I can't get from her the locality of the stolen goods."

So, coming to her again, he mutters: "Ye'd better take things reasonable, an' tell me where that ar' stock is! I will know!"

But she laughs in his face, and cries: "Find it!"

"Now," he says, "I ain't 'customed to bein' sassed by women. I'll have it out o' ye! Tell me, or I'll treat ye as I do my own darters, when they disobey me!"

His brutal hand is upraised, and in another second this exotic from far-away Murray Hill will receive what she had never felt before—a box on her dainty ear. But she, forgetting prudence, forgetting Harry's counsel, pants, "I dare you! Do you think I have no one here to avenge me?"

"Who?" asks Kruger, suspiciously, his hand still lifted.

"Who?" echoes Erma—"who?" Then, remembering in time, she turns her speech and laughs. "That stock is safe in the hands of Wells, Fargo & Co., where you dare not touch it!" and unwittingly paves the way for her own escape.

"Oh ho!" guffaws Lot. "It's on the train. We'll see if we dare not touch it!"

He calls to his men, who are in the smoking-room: "Two of ye look after her here, though there ain't any great danger of Miss Dainty's running very far in this snow. That stock is in Wells, Fargo & Co.'s safe, an' we'll have it now. It's right here on the train, boys. We've got a warrant that will hold us up in this business!"

For some of the men have turned pale at the thought of making a raid on Wells, Fargo & Co., an institution that has gained a reputation for being implacable in its pursuit of train robbers, highwaymen, and others that raid the precious things the business community intrust to it.

Then whispering to her: "I'll come back for ye! We'll take ye an' the stock together, back to Utah!" he leaves the girl, followed by all but the two men, whom Lawrence sees watching her, as he peers into the gloom.

Harry is thinking of how to get these two guardians of Miss Travenion away, and has half made up his mind to kill them, when Buck Powers comes sneaking to him, and whispers: "Cap, the engine's ready!"

"Where are Kruger and the rest of his gang?"

"They're making a raid on Wells, Fargo. They're demandin' some stock, or somethin' or other, an' the agent is standin' them off. He thinks they're road agents."

With these words comes an idea to Harry Lawrence.

He whispers quickly to Buck, then says: "You understand?"

"All right, Cap, I'm on to you!" and Mr. Powers disappears.

Thirty seconds after Buck bangs at the door of the sleeper with great noise, though he is careful not to enter, and from its end nearest to the express car, yells: "Come on! you're needed. Wells, Fargo's agent is standin' the bishop off. The bishop says the gal's safe and he wants you!"

"All right!" answers one of the men, and handling their guns, the two disappear to take part in the trouble with the express agent, which is now creating a great commotion on the train, the passengers in Lawrence's Pullman crying out: "Road agents!" and the young lady in Miss Travenion's car, who has been awakened by the noise, screaming for help.

This excitement aids Lawrence. He steps into the car, and touching his sweetheart on the shoulder, whispers: "Come!"

And she following him to the platform, he springs into the snow-drift, and says: "I must carry you!"

"Certainly!" Her arms clasp themselves trustingly round his neck, as he trudges through the snow, bearing his happiness with him.

The locomotive on the Y is just moving as he reaches it, for he crosses directly to it, not daring to carry her past Kruger and his men, who are still about Wells, Fargo & Co.'s car.

"Ah, you're going to carry me away on the locomotive!" whispers Erma, as Lawrence puts her on board.

"Yes, we'll take care of you!" mutters the engineer, giving Harry a helping hand.

In another moment they are in the cab of the locomotive, which is slowly running over the Y towards the main track, which leads to the East, and safety.

This has been kept open as far as the snow-shed, and they will probably not meet a great deal of drift until they get beyond it, but the steam is light in the engine, and it cannot move very fast.

The other locomotive stands behind them, on the Y. Lawrence notices, as they leave it, that its fires are banked, and some one is on board it, though apparently asleep.

A second after, they pass Mr. Buck Powers, who switches them to the main track, they running so slowly that he easily follows them, and jumps on board.

All this time Harry has both ears and eyes fixed on the forward end of the train, to see if their absence is discovered.

But the Wells, Fargo & Co.'s man is still standing the Mormons and their bishop off, and threatening to shoot; and his movements interest them so much they do not notice the great mass of iron that has come on to the main track, and is now plunging away from them down the incline towards the long snow-shed.

"Now," Harry says to the engineer, giving a sigh of relief, "you can light your headlight."

Just then a cry comes out from behind them. It is that of the conductor of the train, who is screaming: "Great Scott! who's run away with the locomotive?" and some of Kruger's men run shouting through the snow.

Then Lawrence cries, "Give her steam!"

The locomotive dashes through little drifts, and drowns sound, but he knows that in a very few moments Lot Kruger will have discovered that what he values more than the stock of the Utah Central Railway is passing away from him.

The engine is already flying through the snow-shed—one of the two long ones that line the steep decline leading towards Piedmont and the East.

In it they find little snow to impede them, but at the end of the shed their trouble begins, for on this track, which has not been passed by trains for twenty-four hours, they encounter deep drifts, and once or twice the locomotive nearly stops, and the engineer tells Lawrence that if it were not for the steep down grade, they would never be able to make it.

Several times they have to back, and push on again, though the sheet-iron covered cow-catcher, which acts as a snow-plow, helps them tremendously. Still it is a long time before they reach the second big snow-shed, and looking at his watch, Lawrence finds that they have been half an hour doing what ought only to have taken them ten minutes.

But just as they are entering the second snow-shed, where the track makes an enormous bend, almost running back upon itself, in the form of a U, something comes out of the snow-shed—not much over a mile away—that they have left behind them. Something that makes Lawrence's heart jump, and then grow cold, as with hoarse voice he cries, pointing back: "My God! what is that?"

And the engineer sets his teeth, and says: "They're after us! It's the headlight of the other locomotive! They have got up steam, and they have the advantage of us, because we have to bore the way through drifts and clear the track for them. They're bound to catch us!"

"Not if steam'll beat them," mutters Harry, and assisted by Buck, he piles the engine fire with coal, and helped by the rapid descent, they forge through drift after drift, none of these being very deep in the second long snow-shed.

Then they come out of it, into the open country once more, and meet deeper drifts, into which the engine plunges with a slow thud, throwing the snow higher than its smoke-stack, as it struggles through. Here the other engine must have the best of it, for they clear its track for it, and they haven't left the second snow-shed half a mile behind when, like the eye of a demon, the glow of the yellow headlight of their pursuer comes gliding after them.

The engineer mutters: "They're goin' to catch us!"

"Never!" cries Lawrence, and piles on more coal—though his heart is cold as the snow-drifts through which the engine plunges.

"We'll be up to the Piedmont switch in a minute. I might as well stop there!" mutters the engineer. "We can't clear the track for 'em and beat 'em too!"

"Put your hand on the reversing lever and you're dead!" cries Lawrence, his pistol at the man's ear.

"Not for my sake!" screams Erma, for she has the man's child in her arms.

"For all our sakes!" answers Harry. "Keep her going—till we can move no more! Then——"

"What?" asks his sweetheart.

"Then Kruger'll trouble you no more; of that be certain!"

"But you?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter."

They are moving quite slowly now, and the girl suddenly cries, "Buck, where are you going?" for the boy has just said, "Good-bye! God bless you, Miss Beauty!"

"What are you going to do?"

"Show you how a Chicago railroad man treats chumps!"

And though Erma cries: "Don't! You risk your life!" and Lawrence puts out a detaining hand, even as they come to the Piedmont side-track, the boy jumps from the cab, unlocks the switch, and hides himself in the snow-drift.

"My God! He's going to run 'em off the track! My pard's the boss of that locomotive!" screams the engineer. "He'll be smashed to pieces!"

"Go on!" answers Lawrence, and his pistol again threatens.

The locomotive dashes forward, for there is a roar two hundred yards behind them, and over the noise they hear Kruger's yell of triumph, which, even as he utters it, is turned into a howl of rage.

There is a shriek of terror from the engineer of the pursuing locomotive, for Buck Powers, in the moonlight, has risen up beside the switch, and turned it, just as the engine dashes to it, not so as to side-track it, but only half way, to dash it over ties and snow-drifts to destruction.

As the locomotive passes, Kruger, who has his pistol in his hand, turns it from the direction of Lawrence and the flying locomotive straight at the breast of the boy at the switch, and fires upon him! And Buck Powers, giving a shriek, staggers and falls into a snow-bank, reddening it with his blood.

But even as Buck does so, he is avenged. The locomotive, plunging forward off the track into the drifting snow, topples over, and though the engineer and fireman jump free, Kruger, with his eye in grim triumph on the dying boy, is thrown beneath the ponderous mass of iron, that topples over him, crushing his body, and sending his soul to where the souls of the Danites go.

The engineer and fireman clamber out of the snow-drift unharmed, though shaken up. Three of the Mormon posse who have been with Kruger come out of the snow unarmed, for their Winchesters are buried deep in a white bank; and Lawrence, knowing they are helpless, makes the engineer run his locomotive back to the switch. Springing out, he has the boy in his arms in a minute, and getting into the cab, he holds Buck Powers to his breast, while his locomotive goes on its way unhindered now, though followed by the curses of its Mormon pursuers.

Then Erma whispers to Harry, "What chance?" But he shakes his head, for he knows what those gray-blue lips mean—he has seen them too often on battlefields.

As he does so, the boy, whose face has already grown pallid, and upon whose forehead the dew of death is standing, gasps: "I saved ye, Miss Beauty!—Didn't I do the trick like—like a Chicago railroad man?"

"Yes," sobs the girl, bending over him. "What can I do for you?"

"The Cap won't be jealous—just give me one kiss—that's all. I've never been kissed—by—a—beautiful—young lady."

And two sweet lips come to his, that are already cold, and he gasps: "You're pretty as a Chicago girl—that's where I'm goin'!"

And delirium coming on him, he laughs; for his old life is coming back to him! And the railroad, and the city that he loves so well and is so proud of, getting into his mind, he cries: "I'm braking on the Burlington again, an' we're bound for Chicago. Hoop! we're at the Rock Island crossin'—we've whistled first an' got the right o' way. C. B. & Q.'s always ahead!—Two long toots and two short toots! Town whistle! We're goin' into Aurorie an' out of it again. Now we whiz through Hinsdale an' Riverside!—I can see the lights of the city.—Engine has whistled for the Fort Wayne crossin'! Sixteenth Street! Slow down! The bell's beginning to ring—the lights are dancin'—Michigan Avenue! We're runnin' for the old Lake Street Station! I'm a-folding up the flags and takin' in the red lights—the bell's ringin' fainter—the whistle's blowin' for brakes—the wheels are goin' slower—slower—slower—the lights is dancin' about me—the wheels are stopped. The train is dead—the lights is goin' out! CHICAGO!!"

And with this cry, Buck Powers goes to Heaven.

Then Erma, bending over him, and wringing her hands, and tears dropping on his dead face, whispers: "Let us take him to Chicago, Harry, and bury him in the city he loved so well!"

And so they do, some months afterward; and there he lies, entombed in that silent city of the dead, beside the waters of the blue lake, and that great city of the living. And no truer heart, nor nobler soul, will ever tread the streets of that grand metropolis of the West, than that of this boy, who loved it so well, and who gave his life for gratitude—now nor to come, even if it grows to have ten millions.