"
The two resumed their journey. Banneker returned to his book. A freight,
"running extra," interrupted him, but not for long. The wire had been
practicing a seemly restraint for uneventful weeks, so the agent felt
that he could settle down to a sure hour's bookishness yet, even though
the west-bound Transcontinental Special should be on time, which was
improbable, as "bad track" had been reported from eastward, owing to the
rains. Rather to his surprise, he had hardly got well reimmersed in the
enchantments of the mercantile fairyland when the "Open Office" wire
warned him to be attentive, and presently from the east came tidings of
Number Three running almost true to schedule, as befitted the pride of
the line, the finest train that crossed the continent.
Past the gaunt station she roared, only seven minutes late, giving the
imaginative young official a glimpse and flash of the uttermost luxury
of travel: rich woods, gleaming metal, elegance of finish, and on the
rear of the observation-car a group so lily-clad that Sears-Roebuck at
its most glorious was not like unto them. Would such a train, the
implanted youth wondered, ever bear him away to unknown, undreamed
enchantments?
Would he even wish to go if he might? Life was full of many things to do
and learn at Manzanita.
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