Destiny Of The Mountain Man by William W. Johnstone Page B

their attention.
    â€œOh,” Alice said. “The train is coming. I guess it really is time to say good-bye.”
    â€œDid you take a room?” Loretta asked.
    â€œNo, it is just an overnight trip. I’ll be there shortly after breakfast in the morning. A berth in the Pullman car is all I need.”

    Because it was dark when the train pulled out of the station, Alice had the porter make up her berth right away. She was in bed within half an hour and, partly because she was tired from so much activity during the week, and partly because of the relaxing rhythm of the train, Alice was asleep quickly. She slept soundly all through the night.
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    Had Alice ridden in a parlor car, she would have met the Jensens. For, in addition to chartering a cattle car for his stock, Smoke Jensen had taken two rooms in the Wagner Parlor Car, one for him and Sally, and one for Cal and Pearlie. The center of the car was, as the name indicated, a parlor, richly paneled and carpeted, and with overstuffed seats that could swivel to allow passengers to look out at the passing scenery or face inside for conversation.
    At one end of the parlor area a large, silver-plated coffee urn sat on a serving table. A tray of pastries sat beside the coffee urn. Pearlie walked up to the table and took two of the pastries.
    â€œDamn, Pearlie,” Cal said. “You had enough breakfast this morning to choke a horse, and now that’s about the fifth time you’ve been back to get yourself some of them sweets. You plannin’ on eatin’ all of ’em?”
    Pearlie had just taken a large bite from one, and with flakes of powdered sugar on his lips, he looked out at the others in the car.
    â€œUhm . . . anyone else want one?” he asked, though the words were muffled.
    When nobody answered, he looked back at Cal. “No sense in lettin’ ’em go to waste,” he said.
    â€œI would say that you are going to spoil your dinner,” Cal said, “but that would be a laugh. Nothing kills your appetite.”
    Sally was reading Harper’s Weekly magazine, and from time to time, as she came upon something interesting, she would share it with Smoke.
    â€œSmoke, have you ever seen a telephone?” Sally asked.
    â€œNo, I can’t say as I have,” Smoke said. “But I’ve heard of them.”
    â€œWhat about Mr. Edison’s talking machine?”
    Smoke nodded. “Well, yes, I did see one of them in Denver.”
    â€œWell, listen to this smart idea.” She began reading. “It is still not clear as to what purpose Mr. Edison’s talking machine will be put, but what if some clever scientist could find a way to connect it to the telephone? Then, if someone engaged the instrument to contact the house of a subscriber who was absent, Mr. Edison’s talking machine could answer the telephone and record a message that the subscriber could retrieve at a later time.”
    Finishing the reading, Sally looked up at Smoke. “We do live in a marvelous age.”
    â€œI’d like to have me one of them tellyphones,” Cal said.
    â€œWhat would you do with it?” Pearlie asked.
    â€œWhy, if I wanted to go for a walk or a ride with a pretty girl, I would just call her on the tellyphone,” Cal said. “ ‘Hello,’ I’d say. ‘This here is Calvin Woods. Would you like to go ridin’ with me this afternoon? You would? Well, fine, I’ll be by for you at two o’clock.’” Cal smiled broadly. “See how easy that would be?”
    â€œYeah,” Pearlie snickered. “And it would be just that much easier for her to tell you no.”
    The conductor came through the car then, and Smoke called out to him.
    â€œHow much longer until we reach Corpus Christi?”
    The conductor pulled his watch from his pocket, snapped it open, and examined the face.
    â€œOh, I’d say less than half an hour now,” he said.
    It