e
have speech together. It was in the evening of a day when the new
line, then nearly completed, had been honored with visitors; a car-load
of them up from Denver in some railway official's private
hotel-on-wheels. It so happened that my duties had taken me up to the
actual end-of-track--by this time some miles beyond our headquarters
camp at Flume Gulch--and I was there when the special, with its
observation platform crowded with sightseers, came surging and
staggering up over the uneven track of the new line.

I paid little attention to the one-car train as it passed me, save to
note that there were women among the railroad official's guests. The
sightseers were quite outside of my purview--or within it only as
temporary hindrances to a job we were all pushing at top speed. A
short distance beyond me the train came to a stand in the midst of
Dorgan's crew and I saw some of the people getting off the car. Just
then a construction engine came along on the siding, and, my errand to
the front being accomplished, I flagged it and went back to
headquarters.

As I have said, Dorgan dropped into the commissary that evening. His
ostensible errand was to buy some tobacco, but after he had filled his
pipe he lingered until the sleepy commissary clerk began to turn the
loiterers out preparatory to closing the place for the night. It was
then that Dorgan gave me a sign which I rightly interpreted; when I
released the catch of the pay-office door he slipped in and sat down on
the cot where he would be out of sight of those in front. Here he
smoked in sober silence until Crawford, the commissary man, had gone
out and locked the door on the empty storeroom.

"I was wantin' to tip yez off," was the way he began, after we had the
needful privacy. "You'd be after seein' that kid-glove gang up at the
front this mornin'?"

I nodded.

"Know anybody in that bunch?"

"I didn't notice them particularly," I replied. "I understood they
were Denver people--friends of somebody in the railroad management."

"There was women," he said significantly.

"I know; I saw some of them."

"Yes; and be the same token, there was one of them lamped yous off. I
listened at her askin' one o' the men who you was; d'ye see?"

Instantly I began to ransack my brain for the possibilities, and almost
at once the talk on the train with Horace Barton, the wagon sales
manager, flashed into the field of recollection.

"Could you describe the wom