Marjorie poured maple syrup on her tone, as she purred: "This train of yours is an awfully fast train, isn't it?" "Sort of," said the conductor, with just a trace of thaw. What followed made him hold his breath, for the outrageous little hussy was actually saying: "The company must have a great deal of confidence in you to entrust the lives and welfare of so many people to your presence of mind and courage." "Well, of course, I can't say as to that----" Even Mallory could see that the man's reserve was melting fast as Marjorie went on with relentless treacle: "Talk about soldiers and firemen and life-savers! I think it takes a braver man than any of those to be a conductor--really." "Well, it is a kind of a responsible job." The conductor swelled his chest a little at that, and Marjorie felt that he was already hers. She hammered the weak spot in his armor: "Responsible! I should say it is. Mr. Mallory is a soldier, but soldiers are such ferocious, destructive people, while conductors save lives, and--if I were only a man I think it would be my greatest ambition to be a conductor--especially on an overland express." The conductor told the truth, when he confessed: "Well, I never heard it put just that way." Then he spoke with a little more pride, hoping to increase the impression he felt he was making: "The main thing, of course, is to get my train through On Time!" This was a facer. He was going to get his train through On Time just to oblige Marjorie. She stammered: "I don't suppose the train, by any accident, would be delayed in leaving Ogden?" "Not if I can help it," the hero averred, to reassure her. "I wish it would," Marjorie murmured. The conductor looked at her in surprise: "Why, what's it to you?" She turned her eyes on him at full candle power, and smiled: "Oh, I just wanted to do a little shopping there." "Shopping! While the train waits! Excuse me!" "You see," Marjorie fluttered, "by a sad mistake, my baggage isn't on the train. And I haven't any--any--I really need to buy some--some things very badly. It's awfully embarrassing to be without them." "I can imagine," the conductor mumbled. "Why don't you and your husband drop off and take the next train?" "My husb--Mr. Mallory has to be in San Francisco by to-morrow night. He just has to!" "So have I." "But to oblige me? To save me from distress--don't you think you could?" Like a sweet little child she twisted one of the brass buttons on his coat sleeve, and wheedled: "Don't you think you might hold the train just a little tiny half hour?" He was sorry, but he didn't see how he could. Then she took his breath away again by asking, out of a clear sky: "Are you married?"