Steve's Place

Out of the Station

Its the month of October in Laramie, and fall is coming on already. It’s dry and windy, but won’t be for long. Edith was standing on the platform, waiting for the Union Pacific afternoon train heading West. At fifteen she was a fine young woman dressed with a high collar plain white with a gray jacket over a modest traveling skirt. She carried two large bags stuffed with everything she had, one slung over her neck so that she could manage the wicker basket in which she carried sandwitches and the cake her Mom had sent her off with.

The station was busy, and she knew that the train would be full. She spotted the opld man who looked like a minor and thought him innocent enough if she needed to sit with somebody. She didn’t know that he wasn’t your ordinary miner, for he was nearly along among the settlers of Wyoming in speaking a bit of Chinese. That’s why when courts were hauling the Chinese in on charges, judges sometimes contacted him and for a pittence had him show up to translate. Police had been on the looking in the Chinese community for the past several years — ever since the massacre at Rock Springs out in Sweetwater County.