y fatiguing. Surprised at the sound of his
voice, before she knew what she was doing, Betty said, "Not at all,"
closed her red lips, and was immediately dumb.

Carrington at once relapsed into silence and ventured no further opinion
on any topic. Betty was left wondering whether she had been rude, and
when they met again asked if the stage would reach Washington at the
advertised hour. She had been consulting the copy of Badger's and
Porter's Register which Ferris had thrust into her satchel the morning
she left the Barony, and which, among a multiplicity of detail as to
hotels and taverns, gave the runnings of all the regular stage lines,
packets, canal-boats and steamers, by which one could travel over
the length and breadth of the land. "You stop in Washington?" said
Carrington.

Betty shook her head. "No, I am going on to Wheeling."

"You're fortunate in being so nearly home," he observed. "I am going on
to Memphis." He felt it was time she knew this, or else she might think
his movements were dictated by her own.

Betty exclaimed: "Why, I am going to Memphis, too!"

"Are you? By canal to Cumberland, and then by stage over the National
Road to Wheeling?"

Betty nodded. "It makes one wish they'd finish their railroads, doesn't
it? Do you suppose they'll ever get as far west as Memphis?" she said.

"They say it's going to be bad for the river trade when they're built
on something besides paper," answered Carrington. "And I happen to be a
flatboat-man, Miss Malroy."

Betty gave him a glance of surprise.

"Why, how did you learn my name?" she asked.

"Oh, I heard your friends speak it," he answered glibly. But Betty's
smooth brow was puckered thoughtfully. She wondered if he had--and if he
hadn't. It was very odd certainly that he should know it.

"So the railroads are going to hurt the steamboats?" she presently said.

"No, I didn't say that. I was thinking of the flatboats that have
already been hurt by the steamers," he replied. Now to the western mind
the river-men typified all that was reckless and wild. It was their
carousals that gave an evil repute to such towns as Natchez. But this
particular river-man looked harmless. "Carrington is my name, Miss
Malroy," he added.

No more was said just then, for Betty became reserved and he did not
attempt to resume the conversation. A day later they rumbled into
Washington, and as Betty descended from the coach, Carrington stepped to
her side.

"I suppose