THE RAILCAR FERRY WAS WAITING AT THE DOCK WHEN Cromwell’s train arrived. The locomotive was switched onto the track that led across the wooden dock onto the ferry. But that was as far as it would go. The three-man crew had decided it wasn’t safe to attempt a crossing until the chinook passed and the lake’s surface settled down. They were sitting in the small galley drinking coffee and reading newspapers and did not bother to get up when Cromwell’s train rolled on board.

Cromwell stepped down from his freight car and walked to the locomotive, bending into the stiff wind. He paused and studied the waves that were building and chopping on the lake. It reminded him of a furious sea. Then he studied the side-paddle, steam-powered ferryboat.

A faded wooden sign attached to the wheelhouse read KALISPELL. The boat was old. The paint was chipped and peeling, the wooden deck worn and rotted. It had seen many years of service—too many. But to Cromwell it looked sturdy enough to endure the severe wind and the valleys forming between the growing waves. He felt secure that it could steam to the west side of the lake. He was irritated at seeing no sign of the crew.

He looked up the track and felt gratified that the pursuing train was not in sight.

He could only wonder why it became delayed. Whatever the reason, there was no time to dally. He waved to Abner in the cab of the locomotive. “See that the fireman feeds the firebox so we have steam when we reach the Great Northern tracks.”

“Consider it done,” replied Abner, pointing the muzzle of his gun at fireman Carr, who had overheard the conversation. “You heard the man. Keep shoveling.”

“Have you seen the boat crew?”

Abner shrugged. “I’ve seen no one.”

“Better roust them. We’ve got to get under way. That locomotive behind us may arrive any minute.”

“What about the train crew?” said Abner. “If I leave them alone, they might make a run for it.”

“You cast off the lines,” Cromwell ordered. “They can’t go anywhere if we drift away from the dock. I’ll look for the boat crew myself.”

Abner jumped to the deck, ran onto the dock. He found the bow and stern lines securing the ferry. The waves surged in from the middle of the lake and rocked the boat back and forth against the bumpers hanging along the starboard paddle box. Abner waited while the boat drifted away from the dock and the lines became taut. When the water surged back, the lines became slack, and Abner pulled them off their bollards and threw them over the railings of the Kalispell. Agile as a cat, he leaped back on the deck and returned to the cab of the locomotive.

Cromwell climbed a ladder to the wheelhouse and was thankful to get inside out of the howling wind. He found it empty and went down a stairwell that led to the galley, where he found the crew sitting around reading impassively. They looked up as he came down the stairs but showed little sign of response or interest.