Kirk had volunteered to assist an old lady, and his arms were full of bundles as he guided her between the clicking teeth of a turnstile.  He was helping her into a carriage when he heard the sharp clatter of hoofs upon the brick pavement, and looked up to see a fine Peruvian mare hitched to a tan-colored surrey skirting the confusion.  A black coachman was driving, and there were several people in the carriage.  Kirk cast it a casual glance, and just as he looked it swept into the glare of an electric light.  Out from the back seat shone a perfect oval face, with soft, luminous eyes.  It was just as he had pictured it, only more beautiful.

Kirk nearly upset his little old lady, who was struggling into her equipage.  He swept his armful of bundles into the coach, seized his scandalized companion under the arms, and deposited her bodily upon a seat.  Without waiting to hear from her, he dashed away through the bedlam.  Under horses’ heads he went, past flying hoofs and scraping wheels, jostling pedestrians, and little, brown policemen, until he had reached the outskirts of the crowd, where he vaulted into a vacant vehicle and called upon the driver to whip up.

“Quick!  Quick!  Follow that tan-colored surrey!  I’ll give you a dollar gold not to lose sight of it.”

With the blandest of smiles the coachman started his horses, then, turning, he inquired, politely: 

“’Otel Tivoli?”

“No, no!  Follow that carriage!”

“No sabe Ingles!” said the coachman.

Before Kirk had succeeded in making him understand, the street had become jammed with carriages and the Peruvian mare was lost to sight.  After a half-hour of futile clattering back and forth, Kirk dismissed the driver.

But there was no doubt that she had recognized him, and nothing now could prevent him from continuing his search.  The trouble was that his present occupation allowed him no opportunity.  He was tied to the railroad except at night.

It was perhaps two weeks later that a serious shake-up occurred in the office force, of which no one seemed to know the cause.  There was a mad scramble for advancement all along the line, in which Kirk took no part.  But unexpectedly Runnels summoned him to his office.

“How would you like an inside position?” said the Master of Transportation, eying him keenly.

“So soon?”

“I said I’d advance you if you made good.”  He paused an instant, then said, deliberately, “When you get the hang of things here you’ll have a chance to be my assistant.”

Kirk opened his eyes in amazement.

“Gee!  That’s great!  But do you think I can get away with it?”

“Not at once.  It will take time, of course, and you’ll have to work like the devil.”  Runnels regarded him curiously, recalling the letter so carefully filed away.  Then he yielded to his natural impulse.