"It won’t hurt her. An’ a ounce o’ pervention is worth a pound o’ cure." Later the telegraph-operator took the trouble to shove up his window and address Martha through it. His tone was loftily supercilious, ironically facetious. "Nothing doing! You’ve been stringing me, I guess!" he sagely opined. Mrs. Slawson regarded him blandly. "Certaintly. My husban’ an’ me, we come twenty-five miles streakin’ through the night on purpose to do it. Such a precious jewel of a fella as you, anybody’d want to string’m, for safe-keepin’, so’s he wouldn’t fall down an’ roll away an’ be lost in a crack o’ the floor." The telegraph-operator grimaced. "Say, now, no joke! You said you’d tell me the whole story, so I’d know what I was in for. I ain’t hankering to be called down by the Company for outdoing my duty." Mrs. Slawson smoothed her dress over her knees. "Come an’ sit on my lap, sonny-boy, an’ I’ll tell you all about it. Only bein’ so young, an’ havin’ such a tender conscience with you, it might keep you awake in your crib nights. Did you ever see weels, as thick as my thumb, on the white skin of a young girl’s shoulders? Well, I could turn back the waist o’ that one in there, an’ show you such. Raised by the leather-belt o’ her mother’s second husban’, which they’re perfect ladies an’ gen’lmen, o’ course, bless their hearts. They will be after her like mad, when they know she’s given’m the slip. Good lan’! If young fellas was reely young fellas nowadays, you’d be glad of the chancet to pour some o’ the Widow Cruse’s oil on a poor ill-used child’s troubled waters. An’ not be thinkin’ o’ yourself all the time—if it’d harm _you_ to help her, or if the Comp’ny would objec’." The youth regarded her with level eyes. "You can count on me," he said. "I’m with you in this, no matter what." "Good bey!" said Martha. The hours dragged wearily along. One by one disappointed travelers who had strayed off to kill time at the hotel, returned to meet their delayed train. Martha had advance information concerning its coming, the lad at the wire furnishing it gratuitously. "It’ll be along now in five minutes," he said, "and I’ve put the baggage-man wise, so he’s ready to help you get her off, as fine as silk, even if——" Just then Martha saw Sam approaching. Though his step and manner were, to all outward appearances as usual, she instantly knew something was amiss. "What is it?" she asked calmly. "He’s come. Him and Harding are here. They haven’t seen me nor the car yet. I put that beyond, under a shed, where it wouldn’t be conspicuous. But we can’t dodge them long, and——" "This way, ma’am!" summoned the baggage-man, touching Martha’s elbow. "I got the young lady ready for you—and the train’s coming." "Take care of yourself, Sam," Martha cautioned him, following her leader. The train thundered up. Before it had fairly come to a halt, Buller sighted Sam. He made a rush toward him, brandishing a menacing arm.