oing to do if he _is_
there," she answered quite definitely. "I'm going right back to
Montreal to-night. There's a train out again, I think, at
eight-thirty. Even late as we are, that will give me an hour and a
half at the station."

"Gee!" said the Traveling Salesman. "And you've traveled five days
just to see what a man looks like--for an hour and a half?"

"I'd have traveled twice five days," she whispered, "just to see what
he looked like--for a--second and a half!"

"But how in thunder are you going to recognize him?" fussed the
Traveling Salesman. "And how in thunder is he going to recognize you?"

"Maybe I won't recognize him," acknowledged the Youngish Girl, "and
likelier than not he won't recognize me; but don't you see?--can't you
understand?--that all the audacity of it, all the worry of it--is
absolutely nothing compared to the one little chance in ten thousand
that we _will_ recognize each other?"

"Well, anyway," said the Traveling Salesman stubbornly, "I'm going to
walk out slow behind you and see you through this thing all right."

"Oh, no, you're not!" exclaimed the Youngish Girl. "Oh, no, you're
not! Can't you see that if he's there, I wouldn't mind you so much;
but if he doesn't come, can't you understand that maybe I'd just as
soon you didn't know about it?"

"O-h," said the Traveling Salesman.

A little impatiently he turned and routed the Young Electrician out
of his sprawling nap. "Don't you know Boston when you see it?" he
cried a trifle testily.

For an instant the Young Electrician's sleepy eyes stared dully into
the Girl's excited face. Then he stumbled up a bit awkwardly and
reached out for all his coil-boxes and insulators.

"Good-night to you. Much obliged to you," he nodded amiably.

A moment later he and the Traveling Salesman were forging their way
ahead through the crowded aisle. Like the transient, impersonal,
altogether mysterious stimulant of a strain of martial music, the
Young Electrician vanished into space. But just at the edge of the car
steps the Traveling Salesman dallied a second to wait for the Youngish
Girl.

"Say," he said, "say, can I tell my wife what you've told me?"

"Y-e-s," nodded the Youngish Girl soberly.

"And say," said the Traveling Salesman, "say, I don't exactly like to
go off this way and never know at all how it all came out." Casually
his eyes fell on the big lynx muff in the Youngish Girl's hand. "Say,"
he said, "if I promise, honest-Inju