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