perannuated bosh to the contrary. To the half dozen women
who are startled by sheer audacity into submission there are scores who
are piqued by a self-respectful patience; and where a women has to do
half the wooing, she generally makes a pretty sure thing of it.

In his bewilderment Thatcher had overlooked a letter lying on his table.
It was from his Washington lawyer. The concluding paragraph caught his
eye,--"Perhaps it would be well if you came here yourself. Roscommon is
here; and they say there is a niece of Garcia's, lately appeared, who is
likely to get up a strong social sympathy for the old Mexican. I don't
know that they expect to prove anything by her; but I'm told she
is attractive and clever, and has enlisted the sympathies of the
delegation." Thatcher laid the letter down a little indignantly. Strong
men are quite as liable as weak women are to sudden inconsistencies on
any question they may have in common. What right had this poor little
bud he had cherished,--he was quite satisfied now that he had cherished
her, and really had suffered from her absence,--what right had she to
suddenly blossom in the sunshine of power to be, perhaps, plucked and
worn by one of his enemies? He did not agree with his lawyer that she
was in any way connected with his enemies: he trusted to her masculine
loyalty that far. But here was something vaguely dangerous to the
feminine mind,--position, flattery, power. He was almost as firmly
satisfied now that he had been wronged and neglected as he had been
positive a few moments before that he had been remiss in his attention.
The irritation, although momentary, was enough to decide this strong
man. He telegraphed to San Francisco; and, having missed the steamer,
secured an overland passage to Washington; thought better of it, and
partly changed his mind an hour after the ticket was purchased; but,
manlike, having once made a practical step in a wrong direction, he
kept on rather than admit an inconsistency to himself. Yet he was not
entirely satisfied that his journey was a business one. The impulsive,
weak little Mistress Carmen had prudently scored one against the strong
man.

Only a small part of the present great trans-continental railway at this
time had been built, and was but piers at either end of a desolate and
wild expanse as yet unbridged. When the overland traveller left the
rail at Reno, he left, as it were, civilization with it; and, until he
reached the Nebraska