"I can't see him," complained Goldie, "but suppose it's one of the
ranchmen who live about here." Then she turned and donated a brief survey
to 'Tana. "Do you live in this region?" she asked.

After a deliberate, contemptuous glance from the questioner's frizzed head
to her little feet, 'Tana answered:

"No; do you?"

With this curt reply, she turned her shoulder very coolly on the searcher
for information.

Vexation sent the angry blood up into the little woman's face. She looked
as though about to retort, when a gentleman who had just taken possession
of a compartment, and noted all that had passed, came forward and
addressed our heroine.

"Until your friends come in, will you not take my seat?" he asked,
courteously. "I will gladly make the exchange, or go for Mr. Lyster or Mr.
Haydon, if you desire it."

"Thank you; I will take your seat," she agreed. "It is good of you to
offer it."

"Say, folks, I'm going outside to take in this free Wild West show,"
called the variety actress to her companions. "Come along?"

But they declined. She had reached the platform alone, when, coming toward
the car, she saw the man of the sombrero, and shrank back with a gasp of
utter dismay.

"Oh, good Heaven!" she muttered, and all the color and bravado were gone
from her face, as she shrank back out of his range of vision and almost
into the arms of the man Harvey, who had given the other girl his seat.

"What's up?" he asked, bluntly.

She only gave a muttered, unintelligible reply, pushed past him to her own
seat, where her feather-laden hat was donned with astonishing rapidity, a
great cloak was thrown around her, and she sank into a corner, a huddled
mass of wraps and feathers. Any one could have walked along the aisle
without catching even a glimpse of her flaxen hair.

'Tana and the stranger exchanged looks of utter wonder at the lightning
change effected before their eyes.

At that moment a tap-tap sounded on the window beside 'Tana, and, looking
around, she met the dark eyes of the man with the sombrero gazing kindly
upward at her.

The people were getting aboard the train again--the time was so short--so
short! and how can one speak through a double glass? The fingers were all
unequal to the fastening of the window, and she turned an imploring,
flushed face to the helpful stranger.

"Can you--oh, will you, please?" she asked, breathlessly. "Thank you, I'm
very much obliged."

Then the window was raised, a