fiddled with the letter in her hand.

"Well--practically yes--that is--I thought, now that you're
going to the mountains for a month, it might give me a chance to
think--to----"

"And d'you know what I'll do meanwhile, out of revenge on the
sex? I've just ordered three suits of white flannel, and I shall
break every feminine heart in the camp, regardless-- Oh, say,
that's what I came in to tell you! Guess whom I saw at the
tailor's?"

"Well, Mr. Bones, whom did you, and so forth?"

"Fat Ed Meyers. I just glimpsed him in one of the
fitting-rooms. And they were draping him in white."

Emma McChesney sat up with a jerk.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure? There's only one figure like that. He had the thing on
and was surveying himself in the mirror--or as much of himself as
could be seen in one ordinary mirror. In that white suit, with
his red face above it, he looked like those pictures you see
labeled, `Sunrise on Snow-covered Mountain.' "

"Did he see----"

"He dodged when he saw me. Actually! At least, he seems to