girth and stateliness with the
centuries, and the girl, who was of quick perceptions, felt
instinctively the influence of their age and silence. There was, it
seemed, something intangible but existent in this still land of shadow
which reacted upon her pleasantly after the artificial gaieties and
glitter of surface civilization. Her impatience and irritation seemed
to melt, and the time slipped by, until she was almost drowsy when with
an increasing rattle another wagon came jolting down the trail.

Its driver pulled up, and regarded them with placid astonishment, but
he was amenable to the influence of Deringham's wallet, and they took
their places in the vehicle. There was nothing remarkable about the
man, and he ruminated gravely when as they stopped to let the horses
drink Deringham asked him a question concerning their late companion.

"It might have been Thomson," he said. "A big man, kind of solid and
homely?"

"No," said Miss Deringham reflectively. "I should scarcely describe
him as homely."

"Well," said the other, "if you told me the kind of wagon I might guess
at him."

Deringham described the vehicle as well as he was able, and the
stranger nodded. "That's Jimmy Thomson's outfit all right," said he.
"What did he charge you?"

Miss Dillingham laughed. "It is curious that he charged us nothing,"
said she.

"Well," said the stranger gravely, "that was blame unlike Jimmy.
There's only one man in this country would do that kind of thing, and
as he hasn't a wagon to fit what you're telling me, it couldn't he him."

Miss Deringham had purposed asking who the man in question was, but the
driver started his team just then, and an hour later drove them into
the sleepy settlement and carried their boxes into Horton's hotel. He
gravely invited Deringham to drink with him, and appearing mildly
astonished went about his business when the latter declined. Deringham
smiled at his daughter.

"There are, as one might expect, men of somewhat different type in this
country, but I prefer the first one," said he.

Miss Deringham also fancied that she did so, though she did not admit
it, and that evening was made acquainted with yet another and more
different one. Horton as usual served supper at six o'clock, and all
his guests were expected to partake of reasty pork, potatoes,
flapjacks, green tea and fruits at the same table. To this he made no
exception, and would not have done so for the premier, and