“Let me see that coin,” said Lorry, eagerly taking the silver piece from the porter’s hand.  “I never saw one like it before.  Greek, it looks to me, but I can’t make a thing out of these letters.  She gave it to you?”

“Yas, suh—­las’ evenin’.  A high time on seventy cents!  That’s reediculous, ain’t it?” demanded the porter scornfully.

“I’ll give you a dollar for it.  You can have a higher time on that.”

The odd little coin changed owners immediately, and the new possessor dropped it into his pocket with the inward conviction that he was the silliest fool in existence.  After the porter’s departure he took the coin from his pocket, and, with his back to the door, his face to the window, studied its lettering.

During the afternoon he strolled about the train, his hand constantly jingling the coins.  He passed her compartment several times, yet refrained from looking in.  But he wondered if she saw him pass.

At one little station a group of Indian bear hunters created considerable interest among the passengers.  Grenfall was down at the station platform at once, looking over a great stack of game.  As he left the car he met Uncle Caspar, who was hurrying toward his niece’s section.  A few moments later she came down the steps, followed by the dignified old gentleman.  Grenfall tingled with a strange delight as she moved quite close to his side in her desire to see.  Once he glanced at her face; there was a pretty look of fear in her eyes as she surveyed the massive bears and the stark, stiff antelopes.  But she laughed as she turned away with her uncle.

Grenfall was smoking his cigarette and vigorously jingling the coins in his pocket when the train pulled out.  Then he swung on the car steps and found himself at her feet.  She was standing at the top, where she had lingered a moment.  There was an expression of anxiety, in her eyes as he looked up into them, followed instantly by one of relief.  Then she passed into the car.  She had seen him swing upon the moving steps and had feared for his safety—­had shown in her glorious face that she was glad he did not fall beneath the wheels.  Doubtless she would have been as solicitous had he been the porter or the brakeman, he reasoned, but that she had noticed him at all pleased him.

At Abilene he bought the Kansas City newspapers.  After breakfast he found a seat in the observation car and settled himself to read.  Presently some one took a seat behind him.  He did not look back, but unconcernedly cast his eyes upon the broad mirror in the opposite car wall.  Instantly he forgot his paper.  She was sitting within five feet of him, a book in her lap, her gaze bent briefly on the flitting buildings outside.  He studied the reflection furtively until she took up the book and began to read.  Up to this time he had wondered why some nonsensical idiot had wasted looking-glasses on the walls of a railway coach; now he was thinking of him as a far-sighted man.