Deserted | Page 8

by words adapted to the inspiriting air of "Rally
Bound the Flag, Boys." This was followed by a series of popular airs,
with solos, duets, and choruses.
But this sort of thing could not go on forever. Lombard was becoming
exhausted in voice and legs, and as for Miss Dwyer, he was expecting
to see her drop from moment to moment: Indeed, to the air of "'Way
down upon the Swanee River" she now began to sing:--
"Oh, dear! I can't bear up much longer: I 'm tired to death; My voice's
gone all to pie-ee-ee-ces, My throat is very sore."
They must inevitably give out in a few minutes, and then he--and,
terribly worse, she--would be at the mercy of these bestial savages, and
this seeming farce would turn into most revolting tragedy. With this
sickening conviction coming over him, Lombard cast a despairing look
around the horizon to see if there were no help in their bitter extremity.
Suddenly he burst forth, to the tune of "The Star-Spangled Banner: "--
"Oh, say can you see, Far away to the east, A bright star that doth grow
Momentarily brighter? 'Tis the far-flashing headlight Of a railroad-train:
Ten minutes from now We shall be safe and sound."
What they did in those ten minutes neither could tell afterward. The
same idea was in both their minds,--that unless the attention of the
Indians could be held until the train arrived, its approach would only
precipitate their own fate by impelling the savages to carry out
whatever designs of murder, insult, or capture they might have. Under
the influence of the intense excitement of this critical interval it is to be
feared that the performance degenerated from a high-toned concert and
variety show into something very like a Howling-Dervish exhibition.
But, at any rate, it answered its purpose until, after a period that seemed
like a dozen eternities, the West-bound overland express with a
tremendous roar and rattle drew up beside them, in response to the
waving of Miss Dwyer's handkerchief and to Lombard's shouts.

Even had the Indians contemplated hostile intentions,--which they were
doubtless in a condition of too great general stupefaction to do,--the
alacrity with which the two performers clambered aboard the cars
would probably have foiled their designs. But as the train gathered
headway once more, Lombard could not resist the temptation of
venting his feelings by shaking his fist ferociously at the audience
which he had been so conscientiously trying to please up to that
moment. It was a gratification which had like to have cost him dear.
There was a quick motion on the part of one of the Indians, and the
conductor dragged Lombard within the car just as an arrow struck the
door.
Mrs. Eustis had slept sweetly all night, and was awakened the next
morning an hour before the train reached Ogden by the sleeping-car
porter, who gave her a telegram which had overtaken the train at the
last station. It read:--
Am safe and sound. Was left behind by your train last night, and picked
up by West-bound express. Will join you at Ogden to-morrow morning.
Jennie Dwyer.
Mrs. Eustis read the telegram through twice without getting the least
idea from it. Then she leaned over and looked down into Jennie's berth.
It had not been slept in. Then she began to understand. Heroically
resisting a tendency to scream, she thus secured space for second
thought, and, being a shrewd woman of the world, ended by making up
her mind to tell no one about the matter. Evidently, Jennie had been
having some decidedly unconventional experience, and the less
publicity given to all such passages in young ladies' lives, the better for
their prospects. It so happened that in the bustle attending the approach
to the terminus and the prospective change of cars everybody was too
busy to notice that any passengers were missing. At Ogden Mrs. Eustis
left the train and went to a hotel. The following morning, a few minutes
after the arrival of the Central Pacific train, Jennie Dwyer walked into
her room, Lombard having stopped at the office to secure berths for the
three to Omaha by the Union Pacific. After Jennie had given an outline
account of her experiences, and Mrs.' Eustis's equilibrium had been

measurably restored by proper use of the smelling-salts, the latter lady
remarked, "And so Mr. Lombard was alone with you there all night?
It's very unfortunate that it should have happened so."
"Why, I was thinking it very fortunate," replied Jennie, with her most
childlike expression. "If Mr. Lombard had not been there, I should
either have frozen to death, or by this time been celebrating my
honeymoon as bride of a Piute chief."
"Nonsense, child! You know what I mean. People will talk; such