The Denver Express | Page 8

as follows:
Mr. Henry Sinclair: "On No. 17, Pawnee Junction: This telegram your
authority to take charge of train on which you are, and demand
obedience of all officials and trainmen on road. Please do so, and act in
accordance with information wired station agent at Pawnee Junction."
To the Station Agent: "Reported Perry gang will try wreck and rob No.
17 near --xth mile-post, Denver Division, about nine Thursday night.
Troops will await train at Fort ----. Car ordered ready for them. Keep
everything secret, and act in accordance with orders of Mr. Sinclair."
"It's worth about ten thousand dollars," sententiously remarked he, "that
Sinclair's on that train. He's got both sand and brains. Goodnight," and
he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just.

III
The sun never shone more brightly and the air was never more clear
and bracing than when Sinclair helped his wife off the train at Pawnee
Junction. The station-master's face fell as he saw the lady, but he
saluted the engineer with as easy an air as he could assume, and
watched for an opportunity to speak to him alone. Sinclair read the

despatches with an unmoved countenance, and after a few minutes'
reflection simply said: "All right. Be sure to keep the matter perfectly
quiet." At breakfast he was distrait--so much so that his wife asked him
what was the matter. Taking her aside, he at once showed her the
telegrams.
"You see my duty," he said. "My only thought is about you, my dear
child. Will you stay here?"
She simply replied, looking into his face without a tremor:
"My place is with you." Then the conductor called "All aboard," and
the train once more started.
Sinclair asked Foster to join him in the smoking compartment and tell
him the promised story, which the latter did. His rescue at Barker's, he
frankly and gratefully said, had been the turning point in his life. In
brief, he had "sworn off" from gambling and drinking, had found
honest employment, and was doing well.
"I've two things to do now, Major," he added; "first, I must show my
gratitude to you; and next"--he hesitated a little--"I want to find that
poor girl that I left behind at Barker's. She was engaged to marry me,
and when I came to think of it, and what a life I'd have made her lead, I
hadn't the heart till now to look for her; but, seeing I'm on the right
track, I'm going to find her, and get her to come with me. Her father's
an--old scoundrel, but that ain't her fault, and I ain't going to marry
him."
"Foster," quietly asked Sinclair, "do you know the Perry gang?"
The man's brow darkened.
"Know them?" said he. "I know them much too well. Perry is as
ungodly a cutthroat as ever killed an emigrant in cold blood, and he's
got in his gang nearly all those hounds that tried to hang me. Why do
you ask, Major?"

Sinclair handed him the despatches. "You are the only man on the train
to whom I have shown them," said he.
Foster read them slowly, his eyes lighting up as he did so. "Looks as if
it was true," said he.
"Let me see! Fort ------. Yes, that's the --th infantry. Two of their boys
were killed at Sidney last summer by some of the same gang, and the
regiment's sworn vengeance. Major, if this story's on the square, that
crowd's goose is cooked, and don't you forget it! I say, you must give
me a hand in."
"Foster," said Sinclair, "I am going to put responsibility on your
shoulders. I have no doubt that, if we be attacked, the soldiers will
dispose of the gang; but I must take all possible precautions for the
safety of the passengers. We must not alarm them. They can be made to
think that the troops are going on a scout, and only a certain number of
resolute men need be told of what we expect. Can you, late this
afternoon, go through the cars, and pick them out? I will then put you
in charge of the passenger cars, and you can post your men on the
platforms to act in case of need. My place will be ahead.''
"Major, you can depend on me," was Foster's reply. "I'll go through the
train and have my eye on some boys of the right sort, and that's got
their shooting-irons with them."
Through the hours of that day on rolled the train, still over the crisp
buffalo grass, across the well-worn buffalo trails, past the prairie-dog
villages. The passengers chatted, dozed, played cards, read, all
unconscious, with the exception of three, of the coming conflict
between the good and the evil forces