ation. The rear cars were obscured from the view
of Skinny and Old Heck by freight sheds along the track. With the
exception of the engine, baggage, mail and express cars, which were
hidden by the depot, the rest of the train was in plain sight.

A couple of men got off the day coach. These were followed by a gawky,
weirdly dressed girl of uncertain age carrying an old-fashioned
telescope traveling bag. At sight of the girl Skinny caught his breath
with a gasp. Immediately following her was the tallest, homeliest woman
he had ever seen. Thin to the point of emaciation, a wide striped,
ill-fitting dress of some cheap material accentuated the angular lines
of her body. A tiny narrow-brimmed hat, bright green, with a white
feather, dingy and soiled, sticking straight up at the back made her
more than ever a caricature. The woman also carried a bag. The two
stepped up to the marshal, standing at the cornet: of the station,
apparently asking him a question. He answered, pointing as he did to
Old Heck and Skinny leaning silently against the side of their car. The
woman and girl started toward them.

Fascinated, the cow-men watched them approach.

"My Gawd!" Old Heck hoarsely whispered, "that's them!"

"Let's go!" Skinny exclaimed, sweat starting in unheeded beads on his
forehead. "Good lord, let's get in the car and go while we got a
chance!"

Old Heck made a move as if to comply, then stopped. "Can't now," he said
gloomily, "it's too late!"

As Old Heck turned the woman shrieked in a rasping voice:

"Hey--hey you! Wait a minute!"

The cow-men looked around and stared dumbly, dazedly, at her.

"Can I get you to take me an' my daughter out to that construction camp
where they're buildin' a ditch or something?" she asked; "that policeman
said maybe we could get you to--" she continued. "I got a job cookin'
out there an' Lize here is goin' to wait on table."

Old Heck, still looking up in her eyes, with horror written on every
line of his face, his lips twitching till he could scarcely speak,
finally managed to say:

"Ain't--ain't you Ophelia?"

"Ophelia? Ophelia who?" she asked, then before he could speak she
answered his question: "Ophelia--huh! No, I ain't Ophelia! I'm Missus
Jasamine Swope an' a married woman an' you'd better not try to get fresh
or--"

Simultaneous with Old Heck's question, Skinny, his eyes riveted on the
dowdy girl, asked in a voice barely audible:

"Are you--are you Carolyn June?"

"No