A Romance in Transit   By: Francis Lynde (1856-1930)

A ROMANCE IN TRANSIT

by

FRANCIS LYNDE

Third Edition

Charles Scribner's Sons New York 1899

Copyright, 1897, by Charles Scribner's Sons

Trow Directory Printing and Bookbinding Company New York

To the small person who unconsciously provided the motif herein wrought upon, this transitory tale is affectionately attributed by THE AUTHOR

CONTENTS

I. P. P. C. ARIADNE

II. THE "PERSONALLY CONDUCTED"

III. THE PRIVATE CAR

IV. THE DINNER STATION

V. AT THE MEETING POINT

VI. REGARDLESS ORDERS

VII. A DINNER ON WHEELS

VIII. THE CAB OF THE TEN WHEELER

IX. FIFTY MILES AN HOUR

X. A CONFIDENCE EN ROUTE

XI. AN ARRIVAL IN TRANSIT

XII. THE ANCIENTS AND INVALIDS

XIII. BETWEEN STATIONS

XIV. WITH DENVER IN SIGHT

XV. YARD LIMITS

XVI. THE MADDING CROWD

XVII. ON THE NARROW GAUGE

XVIII. FLAGGED DOWN

XIX. THE FOOLISH WIRES

XX. CHIEFLY SCENIC

XXI. ON THE HEIGHTS

XXII. ON THE SPUR TRACK

XXIII. THE LAND OF HEART'S DELIGHT

XXIV. THE END OF A STOP OVER

XXV. WESTWARD HO!

XXVI. A BLIND SIDING

XXVII. THE DRUMMING WHEELS

A ROMANCE IN TRANSIT

I

P. P. C. ARIADNE

Train Number Three, the "Flying Kestrel," vestibuled, had crossed the yellow Rubicon of the West and was mounting toward the Occident up the gentle acclivities of the Great Plain. The morning was perfect, as early autumn mornings are wont to be in the trans Missouri region; the train was on time; and the through passengers in the Pullman sleeping car "Ariadne" had settled themselves, each according to his gifts, to enjoy or endure the day long run.

There was a sun browned ranchman in lower eleven, homeward bound from the Chicago stockyards; a pair of school teachers, finishing their vacation journey, in ten; a Mormon elder, smug in ready made black and narrow brimmed hat, vis à vis in lower five with two hundred pounds of good natured, comfort loving Catholic priesthood in lower six. Two removes from the elder, a Denver banker lounged corner wise in his section, oblivious to everything save the figures in the financial column of the morning paper; and diagonally across from the banker were the inevitable newly married ones, advertising themselves as such with all the unconscious naïveté of their kind.

Burton and his wife had lower three. They were homing from the passenger agents' meeting in Chicago; and having gone breakfastless at the Missouri River terminal by reason of a belated train, were waiting for the porter to serve them with eggs and coffee from the buffet. The narrow table was between them, and Burton, who was an exact man with an eye to symmetrical detail, raised the spring clips and carefully smoothed the wrinkles out of the table cloth as he talked. A private car had been attached to the train at the Missouri River, and its freightage was of moment to the couple in section three.

"Are you sure it's the President?" asked the wife, leaning back to give the cloth laying a fair field. "I thought the Naught fifty was General Manager Cadogan's car."

"So it is; but President Vennor always borrows it for his annual inspection trip. And I'm quite sure, because I saw Miss Vennor on the platform when the car was coupled on."

"Then we'll get home just in time to go on dress parade," said the little lady, flippantly. "Colorado and Utah Division, fall in! 'Shun, company! Eyes right! The President is upon you!" and she went through a minimized manual of arms with the table knife.