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in time. The brakeman issued, stumping noisily and bringing discord into my heaven of blue and gold and comfortable warmth. "Howdy, lady and gent? Breakfast in twenty minutes." He grinned affably at her; yes, with a trace of familiarity. "Sleep well, madam?" "Passably, thank you." Her voice held a certain element of calm interrogation as if to ask how far he intended to push acquaintance. "We're nearing Sidney, you say? Then I bid you gentlemen good-morning." With a darting glance at him and a parting smile for me she passed inside. The brakeman leaned for an instant's look ahead, up the track, and lingered. "Friend of yours, is she?" "I met her at Omaha, is all," I stiffly informed. "Considerable of a dame, eh?" He eyed me. "You're booked for Benton, too?" "Yes, sir." "Never been there, myself. She's another hell-roarer, they say." "Sir!" I remonstrated. "Oh, the town, the town," he enlightened. "I'm saying nothing against it, for that matter--nor against her, either. They're both O. K." "You are acquainted with the lady, yourself?" "Her? Sure. I know about everybody along the line between Platte and Cheyenne. Been running on this division ever since it opened." "She lives in Benton, though, I understand," I proffered. "Why, yes; sure she does. Moved there from Cheyenne." He looked at me queerly. "Naturally. Ain't that so?" "Probably it is," I admitted. "I see no reason to doubt your word." "Yep. Followed her man. A heap of people moved from Cheyenne to Benton, by way of Laramie." "She is married, then?" "Far as I know. Anyway, she's not single, by a long shot." And he laughed. "But, Lord, that cuts no great figger. People here don't stand on ceremony in those matters. Everything's aboveboard. Hands on the table until time to draw--then draw quick." His language was a little too bluff for me. "Her husband is in business, no doubt?" "Business?" He stared unblinking. "I see." He laid a finger alongside his nose, and winked wisely. "You bet yuh! And good business. Yes, siree. Are you on?" "Am I on?" I repeated. "On what? The train?" "Oh, on your way." "To Benton; certainly." "Do you see any green in my eye, friend?" he demanded. "I do not." "Or in the moon, maybe?" "No, nor in the moon," I retorted. "But what is all this about?" "I'll be damned!" he roundly vouchsafed. And--"You've been having a quiet little smile with her, eh?" He sniffed suspiciously.
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