shouting drivers.

Alice Marcum stood upon the edge of the lumber-pile with the wind
whipping her skirts about her silk stockings as the Texan, saddle over
his arm, glanced up and waved, a gauntleted hand. The girl returned
the greeting with a cold-eyed stare and once more found herself growing
furiously angry. For the man's lips twisted into their cynical smile
as his eyes rested for a moment upon her own, shifted, lingered with
undisguised approval upon her silk stockings, and with devilish
boldness, returned to her own again. Suddenly his words flashed
through her brain. "I always get what I go after--sometimes." She
recalled the consummate skill with which he had conquered the renegade
steer and the outlaw broncho--mastered them completely, and yet always
in an off-hand manner as though the thing amused him. Never for a
moment had he seemed to exert himself--never to be conscious of effort.
Despite herself the girl shuddered nervously, and ignoring Endicott's
proffer of assistance, scrambled to the ground and hastened toward her
coach.

A young lady who possessed in a high degree a very wholesome love of
adventure, Alice Marcum coupled with it a very unwholesome habit of
acting on impulse. As unamenable to reason as she was impervious to
argument, those who would remonstrate with her invariably found
themselves worsted by the simple and easy process of turning their
weapons of attack into barriers of defence. Thus when, an hour later,
Winthrop Adams Endicott found her seated alone at a little table in the
dining-car he was agreeably surprised when she greeted him with a smile
and motioned him into the chair opposite.

"For goodness' sake, Winthrop, sit down and talk to me. There's