attention. A stranger might not turn to him a second time in a crowd,
unless they had once spoken and clasped hands.

"My name is Morton," he said. "I know your father, I knew him in the
army and before, back in Massachusetts. I am from the Saline River
country, and I came down here hoping to find the State more interested
in the conditions out our way. You were the only speaker who thought of
the needs of the settlers. There are terrible things being done right
now."

He spoke so simply that a careless ear would not have detected the
strength of the feeling back of the words.

"I'll tell my father I met you," I said cordially, "and I hope, I hope
to heaven the captives may be found soon, and the Indians punished. How
can a man live who has lost his wife, or his sweetheart, in that way?"

I knew I was blushing, but the matter was so terrible to me. Before he
could answer, Richard Tillhurst pushed through the crowd and caught my
arm.

"There's an old friend of yours here, who wants to meet you, Mr.
Baronet," and he pulled me away.

"I hope I'll see you again," I turned to Mr. Morton to say, and in a
moment more, I was face to face with Rachel Melrose. It was she whose
presence I had somehow felt in that crowd of strangers. She was
handsomer even than I had remembered her, and she had a style of dress
new and attractive. One would know that she was fresh from the East, for
our own girls and women for the most part had many things to consider
besides the latest fashions.

I think Tillhurst mistook my surprise for confusion. He was a man of
good principles, but he was a human being, not a saint, and he pursued a
purpose selfishly as most of us who are human do.

The young lady grasped my hand in both of hers impulsively.

"Oh, Mr. Baronet, I'm so glad to see you again. I knew you would come to
Topeka as soon as you knew I had come West. I just got here two days
ago, and I could hardly wait until you came. It's just like old times to
see you again."

Then she turned to Tillhurst, standing there greedily taking in every
word, his face beaming as one's face may who finds an obstacle suddenly
lifted from his way.

"We are old friends, the best kind of friends, Mr. Tillhurst. Mr.
Baronet and I have recollections of two delightful years when he was in
Harvard, haven't we?"

"Yes, yes," I replied. "Miss Melrose was the only girl who would listen
to my praising Kansas while I was in Massachusetts. Naturally I found