out of the way, there came a messenger from the distant post
and a packet was handed in for him. Some letters and a note from his
wife.

"Expecting you home during the evening, I did not send these, but they
may be important. Mrs. Davies suddenly made up her mind to go to Omaha
this afternoon, and was to take the night train at Braska." Here the
other letters dropped to the floor, and the reader's eyes filled with
sudden consternation and dismay. Not until his ambulance had been
hitched and brought to the door did he cease his restless pacing to and
fro. Kneeling a brief moment at the bedside of the unconscious and
fast-failing sufferer, he bade his fellows hurried adieu and drove with
speed to town, a long eight miles. It was then broad daylight, but he
stirred up the sleepy telegraph operator and asked about wiring after
the train. "Grand Island's the place to catch 'em," said the operator.
"They breakfast there at seven." And the chaplain flushed and glanced
keenly at the man. Why should he speak of catching anybody or anything?
Was all the valley already aware of this shameful flight? The hotel
stood not a stone's throw away. There must be no unnecessary scandal
about this business. He needed to see the proprietor, and roused him,
too. Boniface came down anything but smiling, yet thawed a trifle at
sight of the man whom all Nebraska seemed to know and swear by.
Certainly, Mrs. Davies spent the evening at the hotel in her room, and
he put her aboard the sleeper at 12.20, the moment the train came in. He
had wired to Pawnee and secured her section and checked her trunk to
Omaha. She had her tickets, she said. Was Mr. Davies aboard or--anybody
else to meet her? Not that the landlord knew of. The porter showed her
in and said her section was ready. Everybody else was sound asleep,
apparently, but there were some soldiers in the forward cars. Some of
them got out and had a cup of coffee at the stand, and "piled aboard as
she pulled out." They had a prisoner, a deserter, in manacles. Then the
chaplain wired to Duncan Switch, and the answer came that Mr. Willett
left there, bound for Omaha, at midnight, and then he wired the
conductor of the train at Grand Island, and later to Leonard at Omaha,
then sat him down to wait and watch and pray.

The sleeping-car, said the conductor afterwards, was fuller than usual
that night. Some officers got aboard at Rock Springs, and sat up quite
late, chatting with others who had boarde