mirrors set between the
windows, together with tall, very new, oak chairs gave the dining room a
magnificence which abashed the bold heart of the trailer for a moment.

However, his was not a nature to show timidity, and taking a seat he
calmly spread his damp napkin on his knee and gave his order to the
colored waiter (the Palace Hotel had the only two colored waiters in
Wagon Wheel) with such grace as he could command after long years upon
the trail.

As he lifted his eyes he became aware of "the princess" seated at
another table and facing him. She seemed older than when he saw her in
the carriage. Her face was high-colored, and her hair a red-brown. Her
eyes were half closed, and her mouth drooped at the corners. Her chin,
supported on her left hand, glittering with jewels, was pushed forward
aggressively, and she listened with indifference to the talk of her
companion, a dark, smooth-featured man, with a bitter and menacing
smile.

Mose was oppressed by her glance. She seemed to be looking at him from
the shadow as a tigress might glare from her den, and he ate awkwardly,
and his food tasted dry and bitter. Ultimately he became angry. Why
should this woman, or any woman, stare at him like that? He would have
understood her better had she smiled at him--he was not without
experience of that sort, but this unwavering glance puzzled and annoyed
him.

Putting her companion aside with a single gesture, the princess arose
and came over to Mose's table and reached her hand to him. She smiled
radiantly of a sudden, and said, "How do you do, Mr. Harding; I didn't
recognize you at first."

Mose took her hand but did not invite her to join him. However, she
needed no invitation, and taking a seat opposite, leaned her elbows on
the table and looked at him with eyes more inscrutable than
ever--despite their nearness. They were a mottled yellow and brown, he
noticed, unusual and interesting eyes, but by contrast with the clear
deeps of Mary's eyes they seemed like those of some beautiful wild
beast. He could not penetrate a thousandth part of a hair line beyond
the exterior shine of her glance. The woman's soul was in the
unfathomable shadow beneath.

"I know all about you," she said. "I read a long article about you in
the papers some months ago. You stood off a lot of bogus game wardens
who were going to butcher some Shoshonees. I liked that. The article
said you killed a couple of them. I hope you did."

Mose was v