This was all accomplished in less than twenty minutes, and we had plenty of time to catch our passenger train, which we did, leaving our plunder behind but sure to follow.

“He may not miss that junk till he goes to close up, kid, or he may have missed it already. Anyway we’ll sure be stuck up and frisked at Evanston. All we have to do is tell the truth, say we rode this rattler out of Cheyenne and never left the yards at Rock Springs. And they won’t hold us. They can’t figure that we could touch that joint and go out on the same train. We’ll stop at Evanston anyway and wait for our coal car. Then, instead of going to Salt Lake, we’ll ride the freight over the cutoff to Pocatello and I’ll get the coin on that junk in an hour from Mary.”

“Who’s Mary?” I asked.

“Wait till you see her, tomorrow. She’ll buy anything from a barrel of whisky to a baby carriage.”