what he tells me, his people must be very exacting."

"Have you seen him this morning?" the President inquired, with some
small show of curiosity.

"Yes; out on the platform. He has been telling me some of his
exasperating experiences."

The President smiled indulgently. "I suspect our young friend has fallen
into a habit of magnifying his difficulties," he said. "It's very easy
to do, you know, when one's business makes a fine art of exaggeration."

"Why, he doesn't impress me that way, at all," said the good lady, who
knew nothing of her cousin's very excellent reasons for disliking
Brockway. "He seems to be a very pleasant young man, and quite
intelligent."

Mr. Vennor shrugged his shoulders. "I don't question his
intelligence--though it wasn't very remarkable at the dinner-table last
night. Did you happen to find out whether he is going all the way across
with his party?"

"He didn't say. His people are going up to Silver Plume to-day, but he
can't go with them. He has to stay in Denver with one of the exacting
ones whose ticket is out of repair."

"Ha! that's a very sharp little trick," said the President; but inasmuch
as he did not elucidate, the chaperon misunderstood.

"To get him into trouble with the others? I fancy that is only
incidental. Mr. Brockway is going to try to get Mr. Burton--our Mr.
Burton, of Salt Lake City, you know--who is on the train, to take charge
of the party on the Silver Plume trip."

Mr. Vennor said, "Oh," and then the young people began to appear, and
the waiter announced breakfast. During the meal the President was too
deeply engrossed in the working out of a small counterplot to hear or
heed much of the desultory table-talk. It was quite evident that the
passenger agent had learned of the proposed stop-over in Denver, and was
preparing to take advantage of it. His confidence with Mrs. Dunham was
only a roundabout way of notifying Gertrude.

Mr. Vennor considered many little schemes of the frustrating sort, and
finally choosing one which seemed to meet all the requirements, put it
in train immediately after breakfast.

"What are you going to do with yourself to-day?" he asked of Fleetwell,
when they had drawn apart and lighted their cigars.

"Don't know," replied the collegian, between whiffs; "whatever the
others want to do."

"I was just thinking," the President continued, carelessly. "The
Beaswicke girls want to call on some friends of theirs, and that
eliminates t