Then more referring to maps and time-tables, more figuring, more glances at the pile of money. "Let's see--that will land you at--at--" as he ran his finger down the tabulation--"at Colt, Colorado." Danny moved along the counter to the glass-covered map, a new interest in his face. "Where's that--Colt, Colorado?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the counter. "See?" The other indicated with his pencil. "You go south from Denver to Colorado Springs; then on through Pueblo, through the Royal Gorge here, and right in here--" he put the lead point down on the red line of the railroad and Danny's head came close to his--"is where you get off." The boy gazed lingeringly at the white dot in the red line and then looked up to meet the other's smile. "Mountains and more mountains," he said with no hint of lightness. "That's a long way from this place." He gazed out on to flowing Broadway with a look somewhat akin to pleading, and heard the man mutter: "Yes, beyond easy walking from downtown, at least." Danny straightened and sighed. That much was settled. He was going to Colt, Colorado. He looked back at the map again, possessed with an uneasy foreboding. Colt, Colorado! "Well, when can I leave?" he asked, as he commenced putting his property back into the proper pockets. "You can scarcely catch the next train," said the clerk, glancing at the clock, "because it leaves the Grand Central in nineteen min--" "Yes, I can!" broke in Danny. "Get me a ticket and I'll get there!" Then, as though to himself, but still in the normal speaking tone: "I'm through putting things off." Eighteen and three-quarters minutes later a tall, young man trotted through the Grand Central train shed to where his Pullman waited. The porter looked at the length of the ticket Danny handed the conductor. "Ain't y'll carryin' nothin', boss?" he asked. "Yes, George," Danny muttered as he passed into the vestibule, "but nothing you can help me with." With the grinding of the car wheels under him Danny's mind commenced going round and round his knotty problem. His plan had called for nothing more than a start. And now--Colt, Colorado! Behind him he was leaving everything of which he was certain, sordid though it might be. He was going into the unknown, ignorant of his own capabilities, realizing only that he was weak. He thought of those burned bridges, of the uncertainty that lay ahead, of the tumbling of the old temple about his ears-- And doubt came up from the ache in his throat, from the call of his nerves. He had not had a drink since early last evening. He needed--No! That was the last thing he needed. He sat erect in his seat with the determination and strove to fight down the demands which his wasting had made so steely strong. He felt for his cigarette case. It was empty, but the tobacco pouch held a supply, and as he walked toward the smoking compartment he dusted some of the weed into a rice paper.