It was early October, nearly seven months since the Sierra Pacific Railroad Company had been formed, and the summer had passed uneventfully. The political news from Washington was that Congress was still in a furious ferment over slavery, but Senator Stride, in a short letter to Collis and Theodore, had dismissed most of the talk of civil war as ‘hysterical nonsense’. He had asked how the railroad survey was progressing, and whether there was any sign of a negotiable trace through the High Sierras. Collis had yet to reply. The truth was that Theodore was still preparing his equipment for the survey, and was still relying on topographical probability rather than hard rock. The Sierras glittered in the late sunlight every afternoon, as impassable by steam locomotives as ever.

Collis emptied his floral-patterned washbasin and wiped it out with his towel. Then he walked through into his sitting-room, where his clean white shirt was hanging up on the window valance. As he put in on and buttoned it up, there was another knock, this time at his own door.

‘Who is it?’ he called. ‘I’m dressing.’

‘It’s me, Theodore!’ He sounded breathless, and unusually excited. ‘You must open the door! It’s wonderful news!’

Collis went to the door and unlocked it. Theodore came bursting in like a bear, his coat collar folded back the wrong way, his necktie still untied, and his eyes wide with enthusiasm. He was holding up a letter and waving it around. ‘The most marvellous thing! You’d hardly believe it! The most marvellous thing has happened!’

Collis closed the door and walked back across the room tucking his shirt-tail into his pants. ‘Well?’ he said dryly. ‘You’d better tell me what it is.’

‘I had this letter this morning. It’s from Dutch Flat, in the Sierra foothills. You must read it. Read it, please.’

Collis took the letter and opened it out. It was written on cream-coloured paper with the printed heading: ‘Dutch Flat Drugstore. Daniel F. Kates, Proprietor. Pharmaceuticals, Toilet Articles, Notions.’ Beneath the heading, in sepia ink, a firm and literate hand had written: