y, whose bread you eat."

"Whose bread I should like to eat, if that slow-poke in the buffet would
ever bring it," retorted the wife. "And it is you who forget. You are a
man, and Mr. Vennor is a man; these are the primal facts, and the
business relation is merely incidental. He doesn't think any more of you
for standing in awe of him."

"I don't stand in awe of him," Burton began; but the opportune arrival
of the buffet porter with the breakfast saved him the trouble of
elaborating his defence.

Half way through the frugal meal the swing-door of the farther vestibule
gave back, and a young man came down the aisle with the sure step of an
accustomed traveller. He stopped to chat a moment with the
school-teachers, and the ranchman in section eleven, looking him over
with an appreciative eye, pronounced him a "man's man," and the terse
epithet fitted. He was a vigorous young fellow, clean-limbed and well
put together, and good-looking enough to tolerate mirrors in their
proper places. While he chatted with the two young women, he pushed his
hat back with a quick gesture which was an index to his character.
Open-hearted frankness looked out of the brown eyes, and healthy
optimism gave an upward tilt to the curling mustache. A young man with a
record clean enough to permit him to look an accusative world in the
face without abashment, one would say.

When he reached the breakfasting pair in three, he stopped again and
held out a hand to each.

"Well, well; you two!" he said. "I didn't see you when I went forward.
Where did you get on?"

"At the river," replied Mrs. Burton, making room for him in the seat
beside her. "Won't you sit down and break bread with us? literally, you
know; there isn't anything else to break unless you'll wait for the
shell of an egg that is not yet cooked."

"No, thank you; I had my breakfast a good two hours ago. Where have you
been? and where are you going?"

"We have been at the passenger meeting in Chicago, and we are on the way
home," said the general agent.

"Yes, running a race with the President," cut in Mrs. Burton. "John is
dreadfully afraid we sha'n't get to Salt Lake in time to be keel-hauled
with the rest of the force."

The young man sat back on the arm of the opposite seat with the light of
inquiry in his eyes. "What President?" he asked.

"Vennor, of our company. Didn't you know he was in the Naught-fifty?"
said Burton.

"No. They coupled it on just as we were leaving