"How far now to Medicine?" she smiled.
"We are about half-way. From here to Point of Rocks we follow an
Indian trail."
The car was no longer warm. The darkness, too, made Gertrude restless
and they searched the storage closets vainly for candles. When they
sat down again they could hear the panting of the engine. The exhaust
had the thinness of extreme cold. They were winding on heavy grades
among the Buttes of the Castle Creek country, and when the engineer
whistled for Castle station the big chime of the engine had shrunk to a
baby's treble; it was growing very cold.
As the car slowed, Glover caught an odor of heated oil, and going back
found the coddled journal smoking again, and like an honest man cursed
it heartily, then he went forward to find out what the stop was for.
He came back after some moments. Gertrude was waiting at the door for
him. "What did you learn?"
He held his lantern up to light her face and answered her question with
another.
"Do you think you could stand a ride in the engine cab?"
"Surely, if necessary. Why?"
"The engine isn't steaming overly well. When we leave this point we
get the full wind across the Sweetgrass plains. There's no fit place
at this station for you--no place, in fact--or I should strongly advise
staying here. But if you stayed in the car there's no certainty we
could heat it another hour. If we sidetrack the car here with the
conductor and flagman they can stay with the operator and you and I can
take the cab into Medicine Bend."
"Whatever you think best."
"I hate to suggest it."
"It is my fault. Shall we go now?"
"As soon as we sidetrack the car. Meantime"--he spoke
earnestly--"remember it may mean life--bundle yourself up in everything
warm you can find."
"But you?"
"I am used to it."