r such a job?"

"I haven't the grit to ask any questions of you!" he confessed,
plaintively, his memory poignant on that point.

The stout "drummer" had been trailing them from the station. When they
halted he passed them slowly, staring wide-eyed at the girl, asking her
amazed questions with his gaze. She flung the Vose-Mern operative a look
of real fury; she had come north in a fighting mood.

"I have left the city to escape just such men as that--men who aren't
willing to let a girl have a square chance. I lost my last position
because I slapped a cheap insulter's face in a hotel dining hall." She
looked over Latisan's head when she twisted the truth. "I came north, to
the woods, just as far as that railroad would take me. I hate a city!"
Then she looked straight at him, and there was a ring of sincerity in
her tone. "I'm glad to be where those are!" She pointed to the trees
which thatched the slopes of the hills.

"You're speaking of friends of mine!"

They had stopped, facing each other. Crowley, lashed by looks from the
girl and Latisan, had hurried on toward the tavern.

Lida knew that the drive master was having hard work to digest the
information she had given him.

"They are standing up straight and are honest old chaps," he went on. He
was looking into her eyes and his calm voice had a musing tone. "I like
to call them my friends."

He was trying hard to down the queer notions that were popping up. He
would not admit that he was suspecting this girl of deceit. But she was
so manifestly not what she claimed that she was! Still, there were
reverses that might----

"I am alone in a strange land--nobody to back my word about myself. I
must call on a reliable witness. You know the witness." She put up her
hand and touched her hat. Then came laughter--first from her and then
from Latisan--to relieve the situation. "You saw me wearing it more than
six months ago. What better proof of my humble position in life do you
want?"

"I don't dare to tell you what you ought to be, Miss----"

"Patsy Jones," she returned, glibly; his quest for her name could not be
disregarded.

"But what you are right now is good enough because it's honest work."

"Do you think I can get the job?"

"I am a witness of Martin Brophy's standing offer to give one thousand
dollars for a table girl who won't get homesick or get married."

"Take me in and collect the reward, Mr. Latisan. I'm a safe
proposition, both ways."

"I h