much faith in good women to believe they throw down the fellow they’re stuck on every time for the dough.” The windmill man ceased.
“I think,” said the lady passenger, slightly moving upon her lowly throne, “that that is a char———”
“Oh, Miss Garland!” interposed Judge Menefee, with uplifted hand, “I beg of you, no comments! It would not be fair to the other contestants. Mr.—er—will you take the next turn?” The Judge addressed the young man who had the Agency.
“My version of the romance,” began the young man, diffidently clasping his hands, “would be this: They did not quarrel when they parted. Mr. Redruth bade her good-by and went out into the world to seek his fortune. He knew his love would remain true to him. He scorned the thought that his rival could make an impression upon a heart so fond and faithful. I would say that Mr. Redruth went out to the Rocky Mountains in Wyoming to seek for gold. One day a crew of pirates landed and captured him while at work, and———”
“Hey! what’s that?” sharply called the passenger who was nobody in particular—a crew of pirates landed in the Rocky Mountains! Will you tell us how they sailed———”
“Landed from a train,” said the narrator, quietly and not without some readiness. “They kept him prisoner in a cave for months, and then they took him hundreds of miles away to the forests of Alaska.
