Mr. Hogle, without ceasing his vocal offices for so much as the fraction of a moment, let his eyes flicker down over Beatty with no sign of recognition, returned his gaze again to its former direction above the depot roof, and jerked his thumb casually toward the interior of his craft. Beatty handed the girl in, climbed in after her, and set down the suitcase and grip. No others entered; and presently Mr. Hogle, turning from his post by the wheel-rim and glancing inscrutably in at Daisy as he passed the glass panel behind where his two passengers sat, unsnapped and threw in his iron hitching-weight, climbed to his high seat, and rattled away. Daisy Nixon had never before seen such crowds nor such coachmanship. With the horses trotting at a good speed, the old teamster wound in and out by motor-trucks, autos, street-cars, horse-drays, and thronging pedestrians, as smoothly, swiftly and carelessly as though he had the whole street to himself. The traffic grew less dense as they passed out of the vicinity of the depot, crossed a corner where the car-tracks met at right angles, and, after bowling for a block or two down the city's main thoroughfare, turned down a side street and drew up at the door of a hoary frame hotel, its white-painted two-tier piazza weathered to a dingy gray. Beatty and Daisy descended; and the old bus-driver, after first hitching the team to the weight, followed with the grips. "You wait in the hall here, while I go an' dicker with the clerk, dear," said Beatty, ostentatiously, "I'll be right back." Daisy, looking about her curiously, encountered suddenly the eye of Mr. Hogle, standing up the hall, out of sight of the hotel office. The eye had been trying for some moments to catch hers; and, now that it had succeeded, Mr. Hogle raised a huge forefinger, stained indelibly with harness-oil, and beckoned. Daisy went over briskly. "_Missis_ Beatty, hey?" said Mr. Hogle, toning his great voice to a low interrogative rumble. Daisy nodded a careless affirmative. It was none of his business. She felt able to take care of this point herself, when the time should arrive. "Like hell you are," said the unmincing Mr. Hogle, "ner wun't be. Break away from him as soon's as you can--that's if it ain't too late already. I know _him_." Daisy dimpled; raising her chin challengingly, after a manner she had. But she did not answer. "I guess you're all right yet," said Mr. Hogle, after a shrewd fatherly glance, "an' I see you're one of them confident kind. Them's the ones that gets ketched easiest. Now you'll mind what I told you--won't you, Missie?" Daisy, regarding her adviser with dancing eyes, bobbed her chin up and down in mock docility; and Mr. Hogle, shaking his head pessimistically, went out to put away his team. "What was that old geezer saying?" said Beatty, coming out of the office as the old man went outside. "I--I'm sure I don't know," said Daisy, gravely, "I think he was trying to make love to me, Freddie."