Desert Dust — Key Ideas to Explore

There was a quizzical uplift in her frank, arch smile.

"I am, sir. To Benton City, of Wyoming Territory."

"You are acquainted there?" I ventured.

"Yes, sir. I am acquainted there. And you are from Benton?"

"Oh, no," I assured. "I am from New York State." As if anybody might not have known. "But I have just purchased my ticket to Benton, and----" I stammered, "I have made bold to wonder if you would not have the goodness to tell me something of the place--as to accommodations, and all that. You don't by any chance happen to live there, do you?"

"And why not, sir, may I ask?" she challenged.

I floundered before her query direct, and her bewildering eyes and lips--all tantalizing.

"I didn't know--I had no idea--Wyoming Territory has been mentioned in the newspapers as largely Indian country----"

"At Benton we are only six days behind New York fashions," she smiled. "You have not been out over the railroad, then, I suspect. Not to North Platte? Nor to Cheyenne?"

"I have never been west of Cincinnati before."

"You have surely been reading of the railroad? The Pacific Railway between the East and California?"

"Yes, indeed. In fact, a friend of mine, named Stephen Clark, nephew of the Honorable Thurlow Weed formerly of Albany, was killed a year ago by your Indians while surveying west of the Black Hills. And of course there have been accounts in the New York papers."

"You are not on survey service? Or possibly, yes?"

"A pleasure trip to end of track?"

She evidently was curious, but I was getting accustomed to questions into private matters. That was the universal license, out here.

"The pleasure of finding health," I laughed. "I have been advised to seek a location high and dry."

"Oh!" She dimpled adorably. "I congratulate you on your choice. You will make no mistake, then, in trying Benton. I can promise you that it is high and reasonably dry. And as for accommodations--so far as I have ever heard anybody is accommodated there with whatever he may wish." She darted a glance at me; stepped aside as if to leave.

"I am to understand that it is a city?" I pleaded.

"Benton? Why, certainly. All the world is flowing to Benton. We gained three thousand people in two weeks--much to the sorrow of poor old Cheyenne and Laramie. No doubt there are five thousand people there now, and all busy. Yes, a young man will find his opportunities in Benton. I think your choice will please you. Money is plentiful, and so are the chances to spend it." She bestowed upon me another sparkling glance. "And since we are both going to Benton I will say 'Au revoir,' sir." She left me quivering.

"You do live there?" I besought, after; and received a nod of the golden head as she entered the sacred Ladies' Waiting Room.

Until the train should be made up I might only stroll, restless and strangely buoyed, with that vision of an entrancing fellow traveler filling my eyes. Summoned in due time by the clamor "Passengers for the Pacific Railway! All aboard, going west on the Union Pacific!" here amidst the platform hurly-burly of men, women, children and bundles I had the satisfaction to sight the black-clad figure of My Lady of the Blue Eyes; hastening, like the rest, but not unattended--for a brakeman bore her valise and the conductor her parasol. The scurrying crowd gallantly parted before her. It as promptly closed upon her wake; try as I might I was utterly unable to keep in her course.

Obviously, the train was to be well occupied. Carried on willy-nilly I mounted the first steps at hand; elbowed on down the aisle until I managed to squirm aside into a vacant seat. The remaining half was at once effectually filled by a large, stout, red-faced woman who formed the base of a pyramid of boxes and parcels.

My neighbor, who blocked all egress, was going to North Platte, three hundred miles westward, I speedily found out. And she almost as speedily learned that I was going to Benton.

She stared, round-eyed.

"I reckon you're a gambler, young man," she accused.

"No, madam. Do I look like a gambler?"

"You can't tell by looks, young man," she asserted, still suspicious, "Maybe you're on spec', then, in some other way."

"I am seeking health in the West, is all, where the climate is high and dry."

"My Gawd!" she blurted. "High and dry! You're goin' to the right place. For all I hear tell, Benton is high enough and dry enough. Are your eye-teeth peeled, young man?"

"My eye-teeth?" I repeated. "I hope so, madam. Are eye-teeth necessary in Benton?"