Sunny Slopes
Page 22
CHAPTER XXII
HARBORAGE
Less than a mile down the track, Prince came to the tiny signal housefor which he had been looking. The door was locked, and so numb andclumsy were his fingers that he found it hard to force it open. Onceon the inside, he felt that the struggle was nearly over. This was theend. Using the railway's private phone, he astonished the telegraphoperator in Fort Morgan by cutting in on him and asking him to runacross to the nearest garage with a call for a service car.
For a long moment the operator was speechless. Did you ever hear ofinsolence like that? He told Prince to get off that wire and keep hishands away from railway property or he would land in the pen. Then hewent back to his work. But Prince cut in on him again. Finally theoperator referred him to the station master and gave him theconnection. But the station master refused to meddle with any suchirregular business. This was against the law, and station masters arestrong for law and order. But Prince was persistent. At last, indespair, they connected him with the district superintendent.
"Who in thunder are you, and what do you want?" asked thesuperintendent in no gentle voice.
"I want some of those sap-heads of yours in Fort Morgan to take amessage to the garage, and they won't do it," yelled Prince.
"Say, what do you think this is? A philanthropic messenger service?"ejaculated the superintendent.
"I haven't got time to talk," cried Prince. "I've got to get at agarage, and quickly."
"Well, we don't run a garage."
"Shut up a minute and listen, will you? There is a woman out here onthe track, half frozen. We are twenty miles from a house. Will yousend that message or not? The woman can't live two hours."
"Well, why didn't you tell what was the matter? I will connect youwith the operator at Fort Morgan and tell him to do whatever you say.You stay on the wire until he reports they have a car started."
So Prince was flung back to the operator at Fort Morgan, and thathigh-souled scion of the railway was sent out like a common deliveryboy to take a message. Prince waited in an agony of suspense for thereport from the garage. It was not favorable. No man in town would goout on a wild goose chase into the plains on a night like that.Awfully sorry, nothing doing.
"Take a gun and make them come," said Prince, between set teeth.
"I'm not looking for trouble. Your woman would freeze before they gotthere anyhow."
"Send the sheriff," begged Prince.
"He couldn't get out there a night like this in time to do you anygood."
This was literally true. For a second Prince was silent.
"Anything else?" asked the operator. "Want me to run out and get you acigar, or a bottle of perfume, or anything?"
"Then there is just one thing to do," said Prince abruptly. "I'll haveto flag the first train and get her aboard."
"What! You can't do it. You don't dare do it. It is against the lawto flag a train on private business."
"I know it. So I am asking you to make it the railroad's business. Iam warning you in advance. Where are the fuses?"
The operator helplessly called up the superintendent once more.
"What the dickens do you want now?"
"It's that nut on the line," explained the operator. "He wantssomething else."
"Yes, I want to know where the fuses are so I can flag the first trainthat comes. Or I will just set the tool house afire; that will stopthem."
"The fuses are in the lock box under the phone. Break the lock, orpick it. Let us know if you get in all right. How the dickens did youget a woman out there a night like this?"
But Prince had no time to explain. "Thanks, old man, you're prettywhite," he said, and clasped the receiver on to the hook. A littlelater, with the precious fuses in his pocket, he was fighting his waythrough the snow back to Connie, lying unconscious in the whiteblankets which no longer chilled her.
The waiting seemed endlessly weary. Prince dared not sit down, butmust needs keep staggering up and down the track, praying as he hadnever prayed in all his life, that God would send a train before Connieshould freeze to death. Stooping over her, he chafed her hands andankles, shaking her roughly, but never succeeding in restoring her toconsciousness though doubtless he did much toward keeping the blood infeeble circulation.
Then, thank God! No heavenly star ever shone half so gloriously brightas that wide sweep of light that circled around the ragged rocks.Prince hastily fired the fuse, and a few minutes later a lumberingfreight train pulled up beside him, anxious voices calling inquiry.
With rough but willing hands they pulled the girl on board, and piledheavy coats on a bench beside the fire where she might lie, and broughtout some hot coffee which Prince swallowed in deep gulps. They evenforced a few drops of it down Connie's throat. Prince was soon himselfagain, and sat silently beside Connie as she slept the heavy sleep.
A long lumbering ride it was, the cars creaking and rocking, reelingfrom side to side as if they too were drunk with weariness and cold.
At last Connie moved a little and lifted her lashes. She lay verystill a while, looking with puzzled eyes at her strange surroundings,enjoying the huge fire, wondering at that curious rocking. Then,glancing at the big brown head beside her, where Prince sat on anoverturned bucket with her hand in his, she closed her eyes again,still puzzled, but content.
Long minutes afterward she spoke.
"Are you cold, Prince?"
He tightened his clasp on her hand.
"No."
"How did you ever make it?"
"The train came along and we got on. Now we are thawing out," heexplained, smiling reassurance.
"I do not remember it. I only remember that I was stuck in the snow,and that you did not leave me."
"Here comes some more coffee, lady," said the brakeman, coming up.Connie drank it gratefully and sat up.
"Where are we going?"
"To Fort Morgan."
"Want any more blankets or anything?" asked the brakeman kindly. "Areyou getting warm?"
"Too warm, I will have to move a little."
Prince helped her gently farther from the roaring flames, and againpulled his bucket close to her side. He placed his hand in her lap andConnie wriggled her fingers into his.
Suddenly she leaned forward and looked into his face, noting the steadysteely eyes, the square strong chin, the boyish mouth. Not a handsomeface, like Jerry's, not fine and pure, like David's,--but strong andkind, a face that somehow spoke wistfully of deep needs and secretlongings. Suddenly Connie felt that she was very happy, and in thesame instant discovered that her eyes were wet. She smiled.
"Connie," whispered the big brown man, "are we going to get married,sometime?"
"Yes," she whispered promptly, "sometime. If you want me."
His hands closed convulsively over hers.
"Make it soon," he begged. "It is terribly lonesome."
"Two years," she suggested, wrinkling her brows. "But if it is toolonesome, we will make it one."
"You won't go away." Prince was aghast at the thought.
"I have to," she told him, caressing his hand with her fingers. "Youknow I believe I have a talent, and it says in the Bible if you do notuse what is given you, all the other nice things you have may be takenaway. So if I don't use that talent, I may lose it and you into thebargain."
Prince did not understand that, but it sounded reasonable. WhateverConnie said, of course. She had a talent, all right, a dozen,--ahundred of them. He thought she had a monopoly on talents.
"I will go back a while and study and work and get ready to use thetalent. I have to finish getting ready first. Then I will come andlive with you and you can help me use it. You won't mind, will you?"
"I want you to use it," he said. "I'm proud of it. I will take youwherever you wish to go, I will do whatever you want. I'll get a homein Denver, and just manage the business from the outside. I can livethe way you like to live and do the things you l
ike to have done;Connie, I know I can."
Connie reached slowly for her hand-bag. From it she took a tinynote-book and tossed it in the fire.
"Literary material," she explained, smiting at him. "I can not writewhat I have learned in Fort Morgan. I can only live it."