ing the car. "I clean forgot what I was
sayin'. I guess my foot slipped that time."

"I am sorry I asked," said Mrs. Weston. "It really doesn't matter."

"Oh, it ain't your fault. But I wasn't aimin' to tell. Dad he married my
mother, and they went to live in Sonora, down in Mexico. Some of the
minin' outfits down there hired him regular to--to protect their
interests. I guess ma couldn't stand that kind of life, for after a few
years she brought me up here. I was just a kid then. Ma she built up a
good trade at this hotel. Folks call her Mrs. Adams. Her name was Adams
afore she got married. We been here ten years. Dad didn't know where she
was till last week he showed up here. I reckon she thought he got killed
long ago. Folks would talk about it if they knowed he was her husband,
so I guess she asked dad to say nothin' about that. He said he came up
to see me. I guess he don't aim to stay long."

"I think I understand," said Mrs. Weston.

"Well, it ain't none of my business, long as ma is all right. Say, she
shines like a new hack, eh?"

"You have cleaned the car beautifully."

"Oh, I dunno. Now, if it was a hoss--And say, I guess you'll be startin'
to-morrow. That axle will be all right in about an hour."

Just then Anita came to call them to luncheon. She had heard them
talking at the rear of the hotel shortly after Sheriff Hardy had
inquired for Lorry. Several townsfolk came in, ate, and departed on
their several ways.

After luncheon Mrs. Weston went to her room. She thought she would lie
down and sleep for an hour or so, but the noon heat made the room rather
close. She picked up a book and came down, where she found it
comfortably cool on the veranda.

The town was quiet. A hand-car with its section crew of Mexicans clicked
past, and hummed on down the glittering rails. A stray burro meandered
about, and finally came to a stop in the middle of the street, where he
stood, stoically enduring the sun, a veritable long-eared statue of
dejection. Mrs. Weston turned a page, but the printed word was flat and
insignificant.

She felt as though she were in a kind of twilight valley, midway between
the hills of slumber and wakefulness. For the moment she forgot the name
of the town itself. She knew that she could recall it if she tried. A
dog lay asleep beneath the station platform opposite, one relaxed paw
over his nose. Some one was calling to some one in the kitchen. A figure
passed in the street; a young m