d to have him come and would he attend a picnic in the
woods and help to take care of four girls. He wrote back that he would
be delighted. When he arrived and started for the picnic he found the
four girls waiting for him--four old maids from thirty to forty years of
age!" And at this joke a smile went around, in which the girls joined.

Soon the last of the good-bys had been said. The girls were on the
observation end of the last car, and as the train rolled onward towards
Yellowstone Park they waved their handkerchiefs and the boys on the
platform swung their caps. Then the train slowly disappeared from view.

"Well, here we are," said Phil, with something like a sigh.

"We've got an hour to wait before that train comes along for Butte,"
said Roger, consulting his watch.

"How far is Butte?" went on the shipowner's son.

"About a hundred miles, as the crow flies," answered Dave. "But I guess
it is longer by the railroad, and we'll have some climbing to do--to get
into the Rockies."

"Say, supposing we ask the men around here if they saw anything of
Merwell and Haskers?" suggested the senator's son.

"It won't do any harm," answered Dave.

Inquiries were made of the baggage-master, a ticket-seller, and half a
dozen other men around the depot. But none of them remembered having
seen the pair mentioned.

"They probably kept out of sight," was Dave's comment. "They would be
afraid we were on their trail, or that we had telegraphed ahead about
them."

From the station-master they learned that their train was two hours
behind time, and would not reach Butte until late that night. This being
so, they left their baggage on check at the depot and took a stroll
around, looking at the sights. Then they found a small restaurant and
got what they called supper, although it was not a very good meal.

When the train came along it proved to be crowded, for there had been a
sale of public and private lands not far away and many of the
disappointed would-be buyers were on board.

"We can't take any through passengers," said the conductor, and waved
the boys back.

"We only want to go to Butte," answered Roger.

"Oh, all right then. Take the forward car, next to the baggage-car. But
I don't think you'll find any seats. We are swamped because of the land
sale."

The boys ran forward, after making sure that their baggage was tumbled
into a baggage-car. As the conductor had said, the cars were
overcrowded, and they had