n."

But his face that evening round the fire, when they talked of their next
day's welcome to the new agent, became comedy of the highest, and he was
so desperately canny in the moments he chose for silence or for comment!
He had not been sure of their ignorance until he arrived, and it was
a joke with him too deep for laughter. He had a special eye upon the
Virginian, his mate in such a tale of mischiefs, and now he led him on.
He suggested to the Southerner that caution might be wise; this change
at Separ was perhaps some new trick of the company's.

"We mostly take their tricks," observed the Virginian.

"Yes," said Lin, nodding sagely at the fire, "that's so, too."

Yet not he, not any one, could have foreseen the mortifying harmlessness
of the outcome. They swept down upon Separ like all the hordes of
legend--more egregiously, perhaps, because they were play-acting and
no serious horde would go on so. Our final hundred yards of speed and
copious howling brought all dwellers in Separ out to gaze and disappear
like rabbits--all save the new agent in the station. Nobody ran out or
in there, and the horde whirled up to the tiny, defenceless building and
leaped to earth--except Lin and me; we sat watching. The innocent door
stood open wide to any cool breeze or invasion, and Honey Wiggin tramped
in foremost, hat lowering over eyes and pistol prominent. He stopped
rooted, staring, and his mouth came open slowly; his hand went feeling
up for his hat, and came down with it by degrees as by degrees his
grin spread. Then in a milky voice, he said: "Why, excuse me, ma'am!
Good-morning."

There answered a clear, long, rippling, ample laugh. It came out of the
open door into the heat; it made the sun-baked air merry; it seemed to
welcome and mock; it genially hovered about us in the dusty quiet of
Separ; for there was no other sound anywhere at all in the place,
and the great plain stretched away silent all round it. The bulging
water-tank shone overhead in bland, ironic safety.

The horde stood blank; then it shifted its legs, looked sideways at
itself, and in a hesitating clump reached the door, shambled in, and
removed its foolish hat.

"Good-morning, gentlemen," said Jessamine Buckner, seated behind her
railing; and various voices endeavored to reply conventionally.

"If you have any letters, ma'am," said the Virginian, more inventive,
"I'll take them. Letters for Judge Henry's." He knew the judge's office
was sev