you, Mr. Sleighter. I am glad to meet you."

Mr. Sleighter held her hand a moment while her eyes rested quietly and
kindly, if searchingly, upon his face. This was the man who had profited
by her husband's loss. Was he too a highway robber? Mr. Sleighter
somehow felt as if his soul were being exposed to a searchlight. It made
him uncomfortable.

"It's a fine day, ma'am," he remarked, seeking cover for his soul in
conversation. "A little warm for the time," he continued, wiping his
forehead with a highly coloured silk handkerchief.

"Won't you sit down, Mr. Sleighter? Do you find it warm? I thought there
was quite a chilly wind to-day. But then you are more accustomed to the
wind than I."

The searching eyes were holding him steadily, but the face was kindly
and full of genuine interest.

"I guess so," he said with a little laugh. He would have scorned to
acknowledge that his laugh was nervous and thin. "I come from the windy
side of the earth."

"Oh!"

"Yes, I am from out West--Alberta. We have got all the winds there is
and the Chinook besides for a change."

"Alberta? The Chinook?" The eyes became less searching.