emembering the object-lesson on the station platform in Denver,
Brockway ventured to dissent from this, though he was politic enough not
to do so openly.

"You think he will be very angry, then?"

"Indeed I don't--I know it."

"I'm sorry; but I'm afraid he will be angrier yet, before long."

"Why?"

"You read my message: I asked him to answer at Beaver Brook. He'll be
pretty sure to send you a peremptory order to turn back from Forks
Creek, won't he?"

"Why, of course he will; and I'll have to go back, after all--I sha'n't
dare disobey. Oh, why didn't you make it impossible, while you were
doing it?"

"I had to do what I could; and you, and Burton, and the operator, had to
be saved blameless. But I'll venture a prediction. As well as you know
your father, you may prepare yourself to be surprised at what he will
say. I am no mind-reader, but I'm going to prophesy that he doesn't
recall you."

"But why? I don't understand----"

"We are due at Beaver Brook in five minutes; wait, and you will see."

So they waited while the pygmy locomotive snorted and labored, and the
yellow torrent roared and fled backward, and the gray cliffs on either
hand flung back the clamorous echoes, and the cool damp air of the
canyon, flushed now and then with a jet of spray, blew in at the car
windows.

For the first time since her father had suggested the trip with the
Burtons, Gertrude began to understand that it could scarcely have been
his intention to give her an uninterrupted day in the company of the
passenger agent. But in that case, why had he proposed the trip, knowing
that Brockway's party would be on the train? The answer to this query
did not tarry. She had caught the surprised exclamations of the
Tadmorians when Brockway made his appearance, and they pointed to the
supposition that his presence on the train was unexpected. And he had
been evidently embarrassed; and Mrs. Burton was curiously distrait and
unmistakably anxious to get them out of the way before her husband
should return.

These things were but straws, but they all pointed to one conclusion.
Her father knew, or thought he knew, that the passenger agent was to
stay behind in Denver, and he had deliberately sent her away for the day
to preclude the possibility of another meeting. And when he had
discovered that the little plan had miscarried, he had quite as
deliberately ordered her return.

Speaking broadly, the President's daughter was not undutiful; b