s. The woman had been scattering the seed. She said, whether
she ever rode over that ground again or not, she was sure some of the
seeds would sprout and make the waste places beautiful for
travelers."

"I should think it would take a lot of seed," said the practical Bob,
his eyes following two men who were leaving the dining-car. "Did you
get poppies, too?"

"Yellow and red ones," declared Betty. "The dealer said they were
very hardy, and, anyway, I do want to try, Bob. We've been through
such miles of prairie, and it's so deadly monotonous. Even if none of
my seed grows near the railroad, the wind may carry some off to some
lonely farm home and then they'll give the farmer's wife a gay
surprise. Let's fling the seed from the observation car, shall we?"

"All right; though I must say I don't think a bit of it will grow,"
said Bob. "But first, come back into our coach with me; I want to
tell you about those two men who sat back of you."

"Is that what you were staring about?" demanded Betty, as they found
their seats and Bob picked up his camera preparatory to putting in a
new roll of film. "I wondered why you persisted in looking over my
shoulder so often."

Bob Henderson's boyish face sobered and unconsciously his chin
hardened a little, a sure sign that he was a bit worried.

"I don't know whether you noticed them or not," he began. "They went
out of the diner a few minutes ahead of us. One is tall with gray
hair and wears glasses, and the other is thin, too, but short and has
very dark eyes. No glasses. They're both dressed in gray--hats,
suits, socks, ties--everything."

"No, I didn't notice them," said Betty dryly. "But you seem to have
done so."

"I couldn't help hearing what they said," explained Bob. "I was up
early this morning, trying to read, and they were talking in their
berths. And when I was getting my shoes shined before breakfast, they
were awaiting their turn, and they kept it right up. I suppose
because I'm only a boy they think it isn't worth while to be
careful."

"But what have they done?" urged Betty impatiently.

"I don't know what they've done," admitted Bob. "I'll tell you what I
think, though. I think they're a pair of sharpers, and out to take
any money they can find that doesn't have to be earned."

"Why, Bob Henderson, how you do talk!" Betty reproached him
reprovingly. "Do you mean to say they would rob anybody?"

"Well, probably not through a picked lock, or a window in t