Our smoke finished, we went back to the saloon, where the gentlemen sat down to poker, which Lord Ralles had just learned, and liked.  They did not ask me to take a hand, for which I was grateful, as the salary of a railroad superintendent would hardly stand the game they probably played; and I had my compensation when Miss Cullen also was not asked to join them.  She said she was going to watch the moonlight on the mountains from the platform, and opened the door to go out, finding for the first time that No. 97 was the “ender.”  In her disappointment she protested against this and wanted to know the why and wherefore.

“We shall have far less motion, Madge,” Mr. Cullen explained, “and then we sha’n’t have the rear-end man in our car at night.”

“But I don’t mind the motion,” urged Miss Cullen, “and the flagman is only there after we are all in our rooms.  Please leave us the view.”

“I prefer the present arrangement, Madge,” insisted Mr. Cullen, in a very positive voice.

I was so sorry for Miss Cullen’s disappointment that on impulse I said, “The platform of 97 is entirely at your service, Miss Cullen.”  The moment it was out I realized that I ought not to have said it, and that I deserved a rebuke for supposing she would use my car.

Miss Cullen took it better than I hoped for, and was declining the offer as kindly as my intention had been in making it, when, much to my astonishment, her father interrupted by saying—­

“By all means, Madge.  That relieves us of the discomfort of being the last car, and yet lets you have the scenery and moonlight.”

Miss Cullen looked at her father for a moment as if not believing what she had heard.  Lord Ralles scowled and opened his mouth to say something, but checked himself and only flung his discard down as if he hated the cards.

“Thank you, papa,” responded Miss Cullen, “but I think I will watch you play.”

“Now, Madge, don’t be foolish,” said Mr. Cullen, irritably.  “You might just as well have the pleasure, and you’ll only disturb the game if you stay here.”

Miss Cullen leaned over and whispered something, and her father answered her.  Lord Ralles must have heard, for he muttered something, which made Miss Cullen color up; but much good it did him, for she turned to me and said, “Since my father doesn’t disapprove, I will gladly accept your hospitality, Mr. Gordon,” and after a glance at Lord Ralles that had a challenging “I’ll do as I please” in it, she went to get her hat and coat.  The whole incident had not taken ten seconds, yet it puzzled me beyond measure, even while my heart beat with an unreasonable hope; for my better sense told me that it simply meant that Lord Ralles disapproved, and Miss Cullen, like any girl of spirit, was giving him notice that he was not yet privileged to control her actions.  Whatever the scene meant, his lordship did not like it, for he swore at his luck the moment Miss Cullen had left the room.