Occident up the
gentle acclivities of the Great Plain. The morning was perfect, as early
autumn mornings are wont to be in the trans-Missouri region; the train
was on time; and the through passengers in the Pullman sleeping-car
"Ariadne" had settled themselves, each according to his gifts, to enjoy
or endure the day-long run.

There was a sun-browned ranchman in lower eleven, homeward bound from
the Chicago stockyards; a pair of school-teachers, finishing their
vacation journey, in ten; a Mormon elder, smug in ready-made black and
narrow-brimmed hat, _vis-a-vis_ in lower five with two hundred pounds of
good-natured, comfort-loving Catholic priesthood in lower six. Two
removes from the elder, a Denver banker lounged corner-wise in his
section, oblivious to everything save the figures in the financial
column of the morning paper; and diagonally across from the banker were
the inevitable newly married ones, advertising themselves as such with
all the unconscious _naivete_ of their kind.

Burton and his wife had lower three. They were homing from the passenger
agents' meeting in Chicago; and having gone breakfastless at the
Missouri River terminal by reason of a belated train, were waiting for
the porter to serve them with eggs and coffee from the buffet. The
narrow table was between them, and Burton, who was an exact man with an
eye to symmetrical detail, raised the spring clips and carefully
smoothed the wrinkles out of the table-cloth as he talked. A private car
had been attached to the train at the Missouri River, and its freightage
was of moment to the couple in section three.

"Are you sure it's the President?" asked the wife, leaning back to give
the cloth-laying a fair field. "I thought the Naught-fifty was General
Manager Cadogan's car."

"So it is; but President Vennor always borrows it for his annual
inspection trip. And I'm quite sure, because I saw Miss Vennor on the
platform when the car was coupled on."

"Then we'll get home just in time to go on dress-parade," said the
little lady, flippantly. "Colorado and Utah Division, fall in! 'Shun,
company! Eyes right! The President is upon you!" and she went through a
minimized manual of arms with the table-knife.

The general agent frowned and stroked his beard. "Your anarchistic
leanings will get us into trouble some time, Emily. Mr. Vennor is not a
man to be trifled with, and you mustn't forget that he is the President
of the Colorado and Utah Railway Compan