thereafter he had not another word for me, and presently he went into the
next car. I took his manner to be the Western abruptness that I had heard
of, and presently forgot him in the scenery along the line. At Albuquerque
I got off for a trip to a lunch-counter, and happened to take a seat next
to him.

"Know anybody in Holston?" he asked.

As I could not speak because of a mouthful of sandwich I shook my head. For
the moment I had forgotten about Dick Leslie, and when it did occur to me
some Indians offering to sell me beads straightway drove it out of my mind
again.

When I awoke the next day, it was to see the sage ridges and red buttes of
Arizona. We were due at Holston at eight o'clock, but owing to a crippled
engine the train was hours late. At last I fell asleep to be awakened by a
vigorous shake.

"Holston. Your stop. Holston," the conductor was saying.

"All right," I said, sitting up and then making a grab for my grip. "We're
pretty late, aren't we?"

"Six hours. It's two o'clock."

"Hope I can get a room," I said, as I followed him out on the platform. He
held up his lantern so that the light would shine in my face. "There's a
hotel down the street a block or so. Better hurry and look sharp. Holston's
not a safe place for a stranger at night."