heart.

Sim Gage's team of young and wild horses across the street began to
plunge now, and to entangle themselves dangerously, but he did not
cross the street to care for them. _She_ was coming! The woman from
the States was on this very train. In two minutes----

But the crowd thinned and dissipated at length, and Sim Gage had not
found her after all. He felt sudden relief that she had not come,
mingled with resentment that he had been made foolish. She was not
there--she had not come!

But his gaze, passing from one to another of the early tourists, rested
at last upon a solitary figure which stood close to the burly train
conductor near the station door. The conductor held the young woman's
arm reassuringly, as they both looked questioningly from side to side.
She was in dark clothing. A dark veil was across her face. As she
pushed it back he saw her eyes protected by heavy black lenses.

Sim Gage hesitated. The conductor spoke to him so loudly that he
jumped.

"Say, are you Mr. Gage?"

"That's me," said Sim. "I'm Mr. Gage." He could not recall that ever
in his life he had been so accosted before; he had never thought of
himself as being Mr. Gage, only Sim Gage.

One redeeming quality he had--a pleasant speaking voice. A sudden turn
of the head of the young woman seemed to recognize this. She reached
out, groping for the arm of the conductor. Consternation urged her
also to seek protection. This was the man!

"Lady for you, Mr. Gage," said the conductor. "This young woman caught
a cinder down the road. Better see a doctor soon as you can--bad eye.
She said she was to meet you here."

"It's all right," said Sim Gage suddenly to him. "It's all right. You
can go if you want to."

He saw that the young woman was looking at him, but she seemed to make
no sign of recognition.

"I'm Mr. Gage, ma'am," said he, stepping up. "I'm sorry you got a
cinder in your eye. We'll go up and see the doctor. Why, I had a
cinder onct in my eye, time I was going down to Arizony, and it like to
of ruined me. I couldn't see nothing for nearly four days."

He was lying now, rather fluently and beautifully. He had never been
in Arizona, and so little did he know of railway travel that he had not
noted that this young woman came not from a sleeping car, but from one
of the day coaches. The dust upon her garments seemed to him there
naturally enough.

She did not answer, stood so much aloof from him tha