ily have attracted the attention of
any one. He would have attracted attention in a crowd. Tall, with an
athletic trimness of limb, a good breadth of shoulder, and a fine head
poised with that natural, unconscious pride of the well-bred--he kept his
feet on the unsteady platform of the car with that easy grace which marks
only well-conditioned muscles, and is rarely seen save in those whose
lives are sanely clean.

The Express had entered the yards at the summit station, and was gradually
lessening its speed. Just as the man turned to enter the car, the train
came to a full stop, and the sudden jar threw him almost into the arms of
the woman. For an instant, while he was struggling to regain his balance,
he was so close to her that their garments touched. Indeed, he only
prevented an actual collision by throwing his arm across her shoulder and
catching the side of the car window against which she was leaning.

In that moment, while his face was so close to hers that she might have
felt his breath upon her cheek and he was involuntarily looking straight
into her eyes, the man felt, queerly, that the woman was not shrinking
from him. In fact, one less occupied with other thoughts might have
construed her bold, open look, her slightly parted lips and flushed
cheeks, as a welcome--quite as though she were in the habit of having
handsome young men throw themselves into her arms.

Then, with a hint of a smile in his eyes, he was saying, conventionally,
"I beg your pardon. It was very stupid of me."

As he spoke, a mask of cold indifference slipped over her face. Without
deigning to notice his courteous apology, she looked away, and, moving to
the railing of the platform, became ostensibly interested in the busy
activity of the railroad yards.

Had the woman--in that instant when his arm was over her shoulder and his
eyes were looking into hers--smiled, the incident would have slipped
quickly from his mind. As it was, the flash-like impression of the moment
remained, and--

Down the steep grade of the narrow San Timateo Canyon, on the coast side
of the mountain pass, the Overland thundered on the last stretch of its
long race to the western edge of the continent. And now, from the car
windows, the passengers caught tantalizing glimpses of bright pastures
with their herds of contented dairy cows, and with their white ranch
buildings set in the shade of giant pepper and eucalyptus trees. On the
rounded shoulders and steep