e, to rest upon
the glittering handcuffs.

"Don't you worry about them, miss," said the other man. "All marshals
handcuff themselves to their prisoners to keep them from getting away.
Mr. Easton knows his business."

"Will we see you again soon in Washington?" asked the girl.

"Not soon, I think," said Easton. "My butterfly days are over, I fear."

"I love the West," said the girl irrelevantly. Her eyes were shining
softly. She looked away out the car window. She began to speak truly
and simply without the gloss of style and manner: "Mamma and I spent
the summer in Denver. She went home a week ago because father was
slightly ill. I could live and be happy in the West. I think the air
here agrees with me. Money isn't everything. But people always
misunderstand things and remain stupid--"

"Say, Mr. Marshal," growled the glum-faced man. "This isn't quite
fair. I'm needing a drink, and haven't had a smoke all day. Haven't
you talked long enough? Take me in the smoker now, won't you? I'm
half dead for a pipe."

The bound travelers rose to their feet, Easton with the same slow smile
on his face.

"I can't deny a petition for tobacco," he said, lightly. "It's the one
friend of the unfortunate. Good-bye, Miss Fairchild. Duty calls, you
know." He held out his hand for a farewell.

"It's too bad you are not going East," she said, reclothing herself
with manner and style. "But you must go on to Leavenworth, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Easton, "I must go on to Leavenworth."

The two men sidled down the aisle into the smoker.

The two passengers in a seat near by had heard most of the
conversation. Said one of them: "That marshal's a good sort of chap.
Some of these Western fellows are all right."

"Pretty young to hold an office like that, isn't he?" asked the other.

"Young!" exclaimed the first speaker, "why--Oh! didn't you catch on?
Say--did you ever know an officer to handcuff a prisoner to his _right_
hand?"

THE CACTUS

The most notable thing about Time is that it is so purely relative. A
large amount of reminiscence is, by common consent, conceded to the
drowning man; and it is not past belief that one may review an entire
courtship while removing one's gloves.

That is what Trysdale was doing, standing by a table in his bachelor
apartments. On the table stood a singular-looking green plant in a red
earthen jar. The plant was one of the species of cacti, and was
provided with lon