e.

Slavens nodded with what show of unconcern he could assume. For, knowing
what he knew, he wondered what the gambler was there for, and why he
seemed so anxious to keep the matter of his identity to himself.

When they arrived at Comanche the sun was down. Mrs. Reed hurried June
indoors, all exclamations and shudders over what she believed to have
been a very narrow escape. Vowing that she never would go exploring
around in that wild land again, she whisked off without a word for
Smith.

The others shook hands with the driver, Agnes coming last. He took off
his hat when it came her turn.

"Keep your eyes skinned," he advised her, "and don't let 'em play you
for a sucker. Any time you need advice, or any help that I can give you,
if I'm not here I'm on the road between here and Meander. You can git me
over there by telephone."

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," said she warmly and genuinely, wondering why he
should take such an unaccountable interest in her.

The others had gone about their business, thinking strongly of supper,
leaving Smith and her alone beside the old green stage.

"But don't ask for Smith if you call me up," said he, "for that's only
my first name, and they's a horse-wrangler over there with that for his
last. They might think you wanted him."

"Oh, I didn't know!" she stammered, all confusion over the familiarity
that she had been taking all day. "I didn't know your other name--nobody
ever told me."

"No; not many of 'em down here knows it," he responded. "But up at
Meander, at the barn, they know it. It's Phogenphole."

"Oh!"

"But if you don't like it," added Smith, speaking with great fervor, and
leaning toward her a little eagerly and earnestly, "I'll have a bill put
through the Legislature down at Cheyenne and change it!"

They ate supper that evening by lantern-light, with the night noise of
Comanche beginning to rise around them earlier than usual. Those who
were there for the reaping realized that it would be their last big
night, for on the morrow the drawing would fall. After the first day's
numbers had been taken from the wheel at Meander, which would run up
into the thousands, the waiting crowds would melt away from Comanche as
fast as trains could carry them. So those who were on the make had both
hands out in Comanche that night.

They all wondered how it would turn out for them, the lumberman and the
insurance agent--who had not been of the party that day in Smith's
coach--o