ef take the aisle seat?" said the girl,
surveying Betty as a princess might gaze upon an annoying little page. "I
travel better when I can have plenty of fresh air."

"You might have thought I was a bug," Betty confided later to Bob.

The diamonds flashed as the girl loosened the fur collar at her throat.

"Please move over," she commanded calmly.

Betty was bewildered, but her innate courtesy died hard.

"You--you've made a mistake," she faltered. "This seat is taken."

"The conductor said to take any vacant seat," said the newcomer. "You
can't hold seats in a public conveyance--my father says so. Put the bags
in here, porter. Be careful of that enamel leather."

To Betty's dismay, she settled herself, flounces and furs and bags, in
the narrow space that belonged to Bob, and by an adroit pressure of her
elbow made it impossible for Betty to resume her crocheting.

"I think you done made a mistake, lady," ventured the porter. "This seat
belongs to a young man what has a ticket to Chicago."

"Well, I'm going to Chicago," answered the girl composedly. "Do you
expect me to stand up the rest of the way? The agent had no business to
sell me a reservation in a car that only went as far as the Junction."

The porter withdrew, shaking his head, and in a few minutes Bob came back
to his seat. Betty, watching the girl, saw her glance sidewise at him
from her narrow eyes, though she pretended to be absorbed in a magazine.

"I beg your pardon," said Bob politely.

There was no response.

"Pardon me, but you've made a mistake," began Bob again. "You are in the
wrong seat."

The magazine came down with a crash and the girl's face, distorted with
rage, appeared in its place.

"Well, if I am, what are you going to do about it?" she shrilled rudely.

CHAPTER VI

FINE FEATHERS

Betty Gordon had always, foolishly perhaps, associated courtesy and
good-breeding with beautiful clothes. This strange girl, who could speak
so on such slight provocation (none at all, to be exact) wore a handsome
suit, and if her jewelry was too conspicuous it had the merit of being
genuine. Betty herself had a lively temper, but she was altogether free
from snappishness and when she "blew up" the cause was sure to be
unmistakable and significant.

Bob jumped when the girl fired her question at him. There had been
nothing in his limited experience with girls to prepare him for such an
outburst. Betty half expected him to acquiesce an