ty to survey her further.

"Benton," she said briefly, to the agent.

We were bound for the same point, then. Ye gods, but she was a little
beauty: a perfect blonde, of the petite and fully formed type, with
regular features inclined to the clean-cut Grecian, a piquant mouth
deliciously bowed, two eyes of the deepest blue veiled by long lashes, and
a mass of glinting golden hair upon which perched a ravishing little
bonnet. The natural ensemble was enhanced by her costume, all of black,
from the closely fitting bodice to the rustling crinoline beneath which
there peeped out tiny shoes. I had opportunity also to note the jet
pendant in the shelly ear toward me, and the flashing rings upon the
fingers of her hands, ungloved in order to sort out the money from her
reticule.

Sooth to say, I might not stand there gawking. Once, by a demure sideways
glance, she betrayed knowledge of my presence. Her own transaction was all
matter-of-fact, as if engaging passage to Benton of Wyoming Territory
contained no novelty for her. Could she by any chance live there--a woman
dressed like she was, as much a la mode as if she walked Broadway in New
York? Omaha itself had astonished me with the display upon its streets;
and now if Benton, far out in the wilderness, should prove another
surprise----! Indeed, the Western world was not so raw, after all. Strange
to say, as soon as one crossed the Missouri River one began to sense
romance, and to discover it.

As seemed to me, the ticket agent would have detained her, in defiance of
the waiting line; but she finished her business shortly, with shorter
replies to his idle remarks; and I turned away under pretense of examining
some placards upon the wall advertising "Platte Valley lands" for sale. I
had curiosity to see which way she wended. Then as she tripped for the
door, casting eyes never right nor left, and still fumbling at her
reticule, a coin slipped from her fingers and rolled, by good fortune,
across the floor.

I was after it instantly; caught it, and with best bow presented it.

"Permit me, madam."

She took it.

"Thank you, sir."

For a moment she paused to restore it to its company; and I grasped the
occasion.

"I beg your pardon. You are going to Benton, of Wyoming Territory?"

Her eyes met mine so completely as well-nigh to daze me with their glory.
There was a quizzical uplift in her frank, arch smile.

"I am, sir. To Benton City, of Wyoming Territory."

"You