Here a fresh locomotive and a Pullman car taking charge of them, they
were whirled off to Omaha, reaching that busy locality at about supper
time on the evening of December 16th. The Pacific Train, as it was
called though at that time running no further west than Julesburg,
instead of waiting for the regular hour of starting, fired up that very
night, and was soon pulling the famous Baltimore Club men up the slopes
of the Nebraska at the rate of forty miles an hour. They were awakened
before light next morning by the guard, who told them that Julesburg,
which they were just entering, was the last point so far reached by the
rails. But their regret at this circumstance was most unexpectedly and
joyfully interrupted by finding their hands warmly clasped and their
names cheerily cried out by their old and beloved friend, J.T. Marston,
the illustrious Secretary of the Baltimore Gun Club.
At the close of the first volume of our entertaining and veracious
history, we left this most devoted friend and admirer of Barbican
established firmly at his post on the summit of Long's Peak, beside the
Great Telescope, watching the skies, night and day, for some traces of
his departed friends.
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