“As fast as you can blink an eye.”
“He’s right, Mrs. Douglas. It doesn’t make any difference how far away it is, the telegraph signal gets there instantly. Why, a telegram can come all the way from London to New York, then by telegraph wire across the United States to San Francisco. It is so fast a message from London can reach San Francisco before it was even sent from London.”
“What?” Millie gasped.
Luke smiled. “Well, maybe I am joking with you just a little. But you needn’t worry if the telegraph has to go to other places before it reaches Buena Vista. Believe me, that won’t slow it down.”
Millie smiled. “Well then, we have nothing to worry about, do we?”
“Nothing at all, my dear,” Senator Daniels said, putting on a brave front for his wife and daughter.
Up at the front of the train, the engine had withstood the avalanche. Don and Beans sat unharmed in the engine cab within what amounted to an air bubble. They’d been stuck there for several hours. Realizing they were beginning to run out of air, they were trying to decide their best course of action.
“You know what? I’ve got a shovel,” Beans said. “There’s no need to be trapped here like this. We can shovel our way out of here.”
“Good idea,” Don agreed.
Beans stepped to the edge of the steel plate between the tender and the engine and began shoveling. Within fifteen minutes his shovel hit something and he stopped. “I’ll be damned.”
“What is it?” Don stood and called out.
“It’s a body. I think it’s the fella that tried to stop us.”
“He did more than try. He did stop us . . . but I don’t think this was quite what he had in mind.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When Smoke woke up he got out of bed and looked through the window. “Woowee.”
“What is it?” Sally asked groggily.
“We had some kind of snow last night. I’ll bet we had at least twelve inches.”
“Um, I’ll bet it’s pretty.”
Smoke raised the window then scooped up a little snow from the windowsill. “You want to see how pretty it is?” He dropped the snow onto Sally’s head.
“Smoke! Have you gone crazy?” Sally shouted, though her shout was ameliorated with laughter.
“Poor Duff, he must think we are having a big fight in here,” Smoke said.
“We are.”
“Then I think the least you could do is get up and see us off this morning.”
“Ahh. That was the whole idea of dropping the snow on my head, wasn’t it?”
“You don’t have to fix breakfast. We’ll get something in town. Maybe just some coffee and warm up a couple of the bear claws.”
Sally got out of bed and dressed, and soon the house was permeated by the rich aroma of coffee and warm pastries. Sally joined the men at the table. “How are you going into town? With this snow, I don’t think a buckboard would be a good idea.”
“I was thinking we might hook up the sleigh,” Smoke said.
“Yes,” Duff agreed. “That’s a good idea.”
Warmed and full of coffee and bear claws, it took only a few minutes to get the horses in harness and attached to the sleigh. Then, wrapped in buffalo robes, and taking an extra robe for Matt when they met him, the two men started into town.
The horses quickly found their footing, and the runners of the sleigh made a swishing sound as they slid quickly and easily through the snow. Reaching the depot a little before six o’clock, Smoke and Duff went inside to warm themselves as they waited for the train.
“Smoke, are you here to catch the train?” Phil Wilson, the station agent asked.
“Hi, Phil. No, I’m here to meet a friend who is going to spend Christmas with Sally and me.” Smoke introduced Duff.
“I hope it gets through.”
“Why do you say that? Have you heard something?”
“No, I haven’t heard anything. It’s just that, if it snowed so hard here, what must it have done in the pass?”
“Why don’t you send a telegram to Buena Vista and see if they have anything to report?”
“I was going to wait until six-thirty, and if the train didn’t arrive, contact them then. But there’s really no sense in waiting, is there?”
Smoke and Duff followed Phil back to the corner where the telegrapher had his office.
“Johnny, contact Buena Vista for me, would you? See if they have any information on the train.”
Johnny nodded, then reached out to the telegraph key. He clicked out the code for BV, or Buena Vista. He tried it several times, then looked up at the men gathered anxiously around his desk.
“I’m not getting a response. Their line must be out.”
“Can you go around?”
“Yes. I can go south to Del Norte, and they can go through Pueblo. Pueblo should be able to reach Buena Vista.”
Johnny keyed the instrument again, then it was answered with a series of clacks. Smiling, Johnny sent his message. “It’ll take a moment for them to forward the message on,” he said, looking up from the telegraph key. “I made some coffee if you fellas would like some.”
They were drinking coffee and talking when, a few minutes later, the telegraph instrument started clacking.
Johnny held up his finger, then hurried to the key to respond. After that, the instrument emitted a long series of clicks while Johnny listened and recorded. When it was finished, he read the message to the others. “The train left the station at Buena Vista on time last night. It has not returned to the station, and we have no further word.”
“How do you interpret that, Phil?” Smoke asked.
“If it didn’t return, then I think it is probably still en route. Even if the snow didn’t close the pass, there is no doubt it would slow it down quite a bit. I suspect they are still on the way, just that it is coming very, very slow. I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t get here until sometime around noon, or maybe even later than that.”
“All right. We’ll wait for it,” Smoke said.
“Where will you be if I get any further word?” Phil asked.
“We’ll be in Longmont’s Saloon.” Smoke turned at the door. “Oh, Phil, is it all right if I leave the team and sleigh here for a while?”
“Certainly it’s all right,” Phil replied. “Tell Louis I said hello.”
“Will do.”
Smoke and Duff started toward Longmont’s saloon, which was four blocks away. They passed several business establishments where the owners or employees were out front, shoveling snow off the boardwalk. As a result, less than half of their walk was actually through the snow. One large, lumbering wagon pulled by four mules was the only traffic on the street. The snow was so high it was an impediment to the wagon’s forward progress.
Longmont’s was on the opposite side of the road, so Smoke and Duff had to make their way through the knee-deep snow, too. Once they gained the walk in front of the saloon, they stomped their feet on the shoveled boardwalk to get rid of the snow clinging to their boots and the lower part of their trousers. When they had
