it boy. It's a shame."

"But they kin do it," responded the other ruminatingly. "It's got so
lately, every Saturday afternoon regular, him and his half-wit yonder
stands off the whole town. No man wants to fight a eejit--it ain't
proper."

"Some has," remarked the first citizen thoughtfully.

"Well, anyways, old Joel Tarbush, the town marshal, had ought to look
after such things. There he sets now, over yonder under the awnings in
front of the Golden Eagle, and he sees them two plain enough."

His crony only chuckled. "Reckon Old Man Tarbush knows when he's well
off," was his sententious reply.

The first speaker again pointed a thumb toward the courthouse grounds,
where the woman now was crossing toward the street. She was walking
rapidly, apparently anxious to escape the notice of the two men in the
yard, and intent on her purpose, as though she feared being late at some
appointment. The younger and taller was hastening toward her, but
shrinking from him she hurried on across through the turnstile, and out
into the street. She advanced with a nod here and there to those whom
she met along the street front, but she showed no effusiveness, and did
not pause to talk with anyone, although all seemed to know her. Some
women smiled at her faintly. Some men smiled at her also--after she had
passed. All talked of her, sometimes nodding, head to head.

The woman so frankly discussed presently disappeared around the corner
of the street which led down to the railway station, a half-mile
distant. And now could be heard the rumble of the town "bus," bringing
in its tribute from the train to the solitary hotel.

"Huh!" said one of these twain, "'Rory was too late, like enough, if she
was plannin' to meet Number Four, fer any reason. Here comes the bus
a'ready."

Aurora Lane had indeed been too late to meet the train, but not too late
to attain the purpose of her hurried walk. A moment later the two
watchers on the sidewalk, and all the other Saturday loafers, saw her
emerge again from the street that led up from the railway station.

She was not alone now. A young man had spied her from his place in the
hotel bus, and, whether in answer to a signal from her, or wholly of his
own notion--regarding which there was later discussion by the two
gossips above mentioned--had sprung out to join her on the street.

He walked by her side now, holding her by the arm, patting her shoulder,
talking to her volubly, excitedly, all the