ced over by that dray."

"She was on the wrong side," returned the policeman, after a glance which
modified his first intention to take offense. "She had no business over
here."

"It was either that or a collision. My wheel was scraped, as it was."
She, too, was smiling now.

The policeman pondered. He liked to be called "officer"; he liked to be
smiled upon; and the girl, to judge from her manner and appearance, might
well be the daughter of a man of position. "Well," he said after a
moment, "be more careful another time." He turned and went back to his
work among the other vehicles, covering the weakness of his surrender by
a fresh display of angry authority.

The girl gave a little sigh of relief and looked at Orme. "Thank you,"
she said.

Then he remembered that he did not know this girl. "Can I be of further
service?" he asked.

"No," she answered, "I think not. But thank you just the same." She gave
him a friendly little nod and turned to the steering-gear.

There was nothing for it but to go, and Orme returned to the curb. A
moment later he saw the black car move slowly away, and he felt as though
something sweet and fine were going out of his life. If only there had
been some way to prolong the incident! He knew intuitively that this girl
belonged to his own class. Any insignificant acquaintance might introduce
them to each other. And yet convention now thrust them apart.

Sometime he might meet her. Indeed, he determined to find out who she was
and make that sometime a certainty. He would prolong his stay in Chicago
and search society until he found her. No one had ever before sent such a
thrill through his heart. He must find her, become her friend,
perhaps----But, again he laughed to himself, "What a boor I am!"

After all she was but a passing stranger, and the pleasant revery into
which his glimpse of her had led him was only a revery. The memory of her
beauty and elusive charm would disappear; his vivid impression of her
would be effaced. But even while he thought this he found himself again
wondering who she was and how he could find her. He could not drive her
from his mind.

Meantime he had proceeded slowly on his way. Suddenly a benevolent,
white-bearded man halted him, with a deprecating gesture. "Excuse me,
sir," he began, "but your hat----"

Orme lifted his straw hat from his head. A glance showed him that it was
disfigured by a great blotch of black grease. He had held his hat in his