would happen. Anyway, he would know more about her than at present.
He was standing watching an old man with a long gray beard and wavy
hair falling below a broad-brimmed slouch hat. He was evidently a
prospector, for he bore a good-sized pack across his right shoulder,
and was dressed as if for the trail, with a pair of coarse boots upon
his feet. His figure was commanding, almost patriarchal, and Reynolds
watched him with much interest as he walked stately and deliberately up
the gangway.

As Reynolds turned from his observation of the old man, he gave a great
start, and his heart beat wildly, for there but a few feet from him was
the very girl he had seen at the street crossing. She had just
alighted from an hotel auto, and was pointing out her baggage to one of
the cabin boys when Reynolds noticed her. He leaned eagerly forward to
catch the sound of her voice, but the noise around him made this
impossible. But he had a chance to feast his eyes upon her face, and
to note her neat dark-brown travelling suit which fitted so perfectly
her well-built erect figure. She was of medium height, and carried
herself with complete assurance as one well accustomed to travel. She
was apparently alone, for no one accompanied her as she presently went
on board the steamer.

Reynolds was all alert now, and his old-time enthusiasm returned. She
was going north, and why should not he go too? Once more thought and
action became welded, and finding that it would be three-quarters of an
hour before the steamer's departure, he hurried back to his boarding
house, gathered together his few belongings, including his artist's
outfit, thrust them into a grip, settled his board bill, and almost
raced to the _Telegram_ and _Evening News_ building, where he found the
editor who had just arrived for his nightly duties.