There were nine altogether in the party registering. This number

included the manager, who, both on and off the stage, quite

successfully impersonated the villain--a rather heavy-jawed,

middle-aged fellow, of foreign appearance, with coarse, gruff voice;

three representatives of the gentler sex; a child of eight, exact

species unknown, wrapped up like a mummy; and four males. Beyond doubt

the most notable member of the troupe was the comedian "star," Mr. T.

Macready Lane, whose well-known cognomen must even now awaken happy

histrionic memories throughout the western circuit. The long night's

ride from their previous stand, involving as it did two changes of

trains, had proven exceedingly wearisome; and the young woman in the

rather natty blue toque, the collar of her long gray coat turned up in

partial concealment of her face, was so utterly fatigued that she

refused to wait for a belated breakfast, and insisted upon being at

once directed to her room.

There was a substantial bolt decorating the

inside of the door, but, rendered careless by sheer exhaustion of both

mind and body, she forgot everything except her desire for immediate

rest, dropped her wraps upon the only chair visible, and flung herself,

fully dressed, upon the bed. Her cheek had barely pressed the hard

pillow before she was sleeping like a tired child.

It must have been an hour later when Winston drove in from Flat Rock,

shook the powdery snow from off his long fur overcoat, his cheeks still

tingling from the sharp wind, and, with fingers yet stiffened by cold,

wrote his name carelessly across the lower line of the dilapidated

hotel register.

"Can you let me have the same room, Tom?" he questioned familiarly of

the man ornamenting the high stool behind the desk.

The latter, busy with some figures, nodded carelessly, and the last

arrival promptly picked up his valise from the floor and began climbing

the stairs, whistling softly. He was a long-limbed, broad-chested

young fellow, with clean-shaven face, and a pair of dark-gray eyes that

looked straight ahead of him; and he ran up the somewhat steep steps as

though finding such exercise a pleasure. Rounding the upper railing,

he stopped abruptly before Number Twenty-seven, flung open the door,

took a single step within, and came to a sudden pause, his careless

whistling suspended in breathless surprise. With that single glance

the complete picture became indelibly photographed upon his

memory,--the narrow, sparsely furnished room with roughly plastered

walls; the small, cheap mirror; the faded-green window curtain, torn

half in two; the sheet-iron wash-stand; the wooden chair, across which

rested the gray coat with the blue toque on top; and the single cot bed

bearing its unconscious occupant.




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