place when he declared himself charmed with Annie and Mary. The wholesome vigor, the sprightly manners, of the boarding-train ladies gave him an agreeable surprise. He had expected to find slap-heeled slovenliness in keeping with the dull-red, rough-handled appearance of the cars.
"I hope you'll like it here," said Annie, sighing to signify that she did not like it, and was pining for fairer places that she had known.
"She'd like to go back to Dodge," Mrs. Charles said, as if a big sigh such as that, rising from the bosom of youth, must be explained. She spoke aside, with sympathy for her child's yearning.
"Huh! Dodge!" Mary sniffed. "Dodge's as dead as a doornail."
"It beats bein' hung up out here on the road," Annie argued with spirit. "Nobody out here in this hole to's ociate with."
"Dodge is a division point," Mrs. Charles explained again. "Lots of trainmen lay over there. The girls used to have some good times at the dances down at Dodge."
"Do you dance, Dr. Hall?" Annie inquired hopefully.
"A little," Hall confessed.
"I'll bet you a little!" said Mary, her words full of complimentary meaning.
"Don't get too good opinion of me—I'd hate to disappoint you. Have you been in Damascus long?" This a general question, directed to the three.
"We've been here about four months—"
"About forty years!" said Annie, determined to show that she was above the limitations of that place.
"Well, I guess you'd better chase back and finish
