"Tut, tut!" he grinned. "No offense intended, Mister Pilgrim. Well, you're all right. We can't be young more than once, and if the lady takes you in tow in Benton you'll have the world by the tail as long as it holds. She moves with the top-notchers; she's a knowing little piece--no offense. Her and me are good enough friends. There's no brace game in that deal. I only aim to give you a steer. Savvy?" And he winked. "You're out to see the elephant, yourself." "I am seeking health, is all," I explained. "My physician had advised a place in the Far West, high and dry; and Benton is recommended." His response was identical with others preceding. "High and dry? By golly, then Benton's the ticket. It's sure high, and sure dry. You bet yuh! High and dry and roaring." "Why 'roaring'?" I demanded at last. The word had been puzzling me. "Up and coming. Pop goes the weasel, at Benton. Benton? Lord love you! They say it's got Cheyenne and Laramie backed up a tree, the best days they ever seen. When you step off at Benton step lively and keep an eye in the back of your head. There's money to be made at Benton, by the wise ones. Watch out for ropers and if you get onto a system, play it. There ain't any limit to money or suckers." "I may not qualify as to money," I informed. "But I trust that I am no sucker." "No green in the eye, eh?" he approved. "Anyhow, you have a good lead if your friend in black cottons to you." Again he winked. "You're not a bad-looking young feller." He leaned over the side steps, and gazed ahead. "Sidney in sight. Be there directly. We're hitting twenty miles and better through the greatest country on earth. The engineer smells breakfast." CHAPTER III I RISE IN FAVOR With that he went forward. So did I; but the barricade at the end of My Lady's seat was intact, and I sat down in my own seat, to keep expectant eye upon her profile--a decided relief amidst that crude melange of people in various stages of hasty dressing after a night of cramped postures. The brakeman's words, although mysterious in part, had concluded reassuringly. My Lady, he said, would prove a valuable friend in Benton. A friend at hand means a great deal to any young man, stranger in a strange land. The conductor came back--a new conductor; stooped familiarly over the barricade and evidently exchanged pleasantries with her. "Sidney! Sidney! Twenty minutes for breakfast!" the brakeman bawled, from the door. There was the general stir. My Lady shot a glance at me, with inviting eyes, but arose in response to the proffered arm of the conductor, and I was late. The aisle filled between us as he ushered her on and the train slowed to grinding of brakes and the tremendous clanging of a gong.