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For a moment, the insolent audacity of this move was so overwhelming that Grace was quite incapable of coherent expression. The lovely pink of her cheeks became a deep crimson that spread to the very tips of her ears; her blue eyes flashed, and her hands clinched instinctively.

“Looked like a perfect little blue-eyed devil,” the drummer subsequently declared, in narrating a highly-embellished version of his adventure, “but she didn’t mean it, you know–at least, only for a minute or two. I soon combed her down nicely.” What he actually said, was:

“Been travellin’ far, miss?”

“What do you mean by this? Go away!” Grace managed to say; but she could not speak very clearly, for she was choking.

“Come, don’t get mad, miss! I know you’re not mad, really, anyway. When a woman’s as handsome as you are, she can’t be bad-natured. Come from California, I suppose? Nice country over there, ain’t it?”

What with surprise and rage and fright, Grace was very nearly frantic For the moment she was powerless–her uncle in the smoking-room, her aunt locked up with her Emersonian meditations, the porter in the lobby; the only available person upon whom she could call for aid a horrible drunken murderer and robber, steeped in all the darkest crimes of the frontier! She felt herself growing faint, but she struggled to her feet. The drummer laid his hand on her arm: “Don’t go away, my dear! Just stay and have a little talk. You see–“

But the sentence was not finished. Grace felt her head buzzing, and then, from somewhere–a long way off, it seemed–she heard a voice saying: “I beg your pardon; this thing seems to be annoying you. Permit me to remove it.”

Her head cleared a little, for there was a promise of help–not only in the words but in the tone. And then she saw the desperado calmly settle a big hand into the collar of the little man’s coat, lift him out of the seat and well up into the air, and so carry him at arm’s-length–kicking and struggling, and looking for all the world like a jumping-jack–out through the passage-way at the forward end of the car.

As they disappeared, she precipitately sought refuge in the state-room–where Miss Winthrop was aroused from her serious contemplation of All-pervading Thought by a sudden and most energetic demand upon her protection and her salts-bottle. And, before she could be made in the least degree to comprehend why Grace should require either the one or the other, Grace had still further complicated and mystified the matter by fainting dead away.

III.

In the course of two or three hours–aided by Miss Winthrop’s salts and Mr. Hutchinson Port’s travelling-flask of peculiar old Otard, which together contributed calmness and strength, and being refreshed by a little slumber–Grace was able to explain in an intelligible manner the adventure that had befallen her.

“And no matter what dreadful crimes that horrible man may have committed,” she said, in conclusion. “I shall be most grateful to him to my dying day. And I want you, Uncle Hutchinson, no matter how unpleasant it may be to you to do so, to thank him from me for what he did. And, oh! it was so funny to see that detestable little impudent man kicking about that way in the air!” Which remembrance, at the same moment, of both the terrifying and the ludicrous side of her recent experience, not unnaturally sent Grace off into hysterics.

Mr. Hutchinson Port was quite ready to carry the message of thanks to the desperado, and to add to it some very hearty thanks of his own. But his good intentions could not be realized; the desperado no longer was on the train.

“Yes, sah; I knows the gen’l’m yo’ means, sah,” responded the porter, in answer to inquiries. “Pow’fl big gen’l’m yo’ means, as got on this mo’nin’ to Vegas. Thet’s th’ one, sah! He’d some kind er trib-bilation with th’ little gen’l’m’–th’ drummer gen’lm’ as got on las’ night to Lamy–an’ he brought him out, holdin’ him like he was a kitten, to the lobby, an’ jus’ set him down an’ boxed his ears till he hollered! Yes, sah, thet’s th’ one. He got off to Otero. An’ th’ little man he got off to Trinidad, an’ said he was agoin’ up by the Denver to Pueblo. Yes, sah; they’s both got off, sah! Thank yo’, sah! Get yo’ a pillow, sah?”