reached out for all his coil-boxes and insulators.

"Good-night to you. Much obliged to you," he nodded amiably.

A moment later he and the Traveling Salesman were forging their way
ahead through the crowded aisle. Like the transient, impersonal,
altogether mysterious stimulant of a strain of martial music, the
Young Electrician vanished into space. But just at the edge of the car
steps the Traveling Salesman dallied a second to wait for the Youngish
Girl.

"Say," he said, "say, can I tell my wife what you've told me?"

"Y-e-s," nodded the Youngish Girl soberly.

"And say," said the Traveling Salesman, "say, I don't exactly like to
go off this way and never know at all how it all came out." Casually
his eyes fell on the big lynx muff in the Youngish Girl's hand. "Say,"
he said, "if I promise, honest-Injun, to go 'way off to the other end
of the station, couldn't you just lift your muff up high, once, if
everything comes out the way you want it?"

"Y-e-s," whispered the Youngish Girl almost inaudibly.

Then the Traveling Salesman went hurrying on to join the Young
Electrician, and the Youngish Girl lagged along on the rear edge of
the crowd like a bashful child dragging on the skirts of its mother.

Out of the groups of impatient people that flanked the track she saw
a dozen little pecking reunions, where some one dashed wildly into the