This is what makes Ollie Livingston's little heart beat one or two pats to the second more rapidly than normal, showing how small his soul, how puny his manhood, for no more charming girl has ever been looked upon than Erma Travenion, as she lays her well-gloved patrician hand upon Lot Kruger's big Western arm, even amid the crowds of this great railroad station of New York, where beauties--American beauties at that--have given forth to admiring humanity each glance and gesture, grace and tone, that allure and conquer mankind. Mr. Kruger, also in pursuit of some one, has just found his man, and thus Erma is enabled to overtake him. As she comes up he is in such earnest conversation with a small, weazened-face, ferret-like individual that he does not note the approaching beauty. Were Miss Travenion intent upon anything but speaking to the Westerner she could hardly avoid appreciating the peculiarity of the interview she is breaking in upon--Kruger all command, the other answering with a docility unusual among Americans, and at times saluting in almost a cringing manner the man addressing him. As Erma stands for a moment behind Kruger, she hears him say tersely and sharply to his companion: "Jenkins, there are four hundred more coming on the _Scotia_, due to-morrow, and three hundred here now. We have contracted with the Central for the U. P. to take them at forty dollars a head. The other crowd I will wait for." Mr. Jenkins's reply Miss Travenion does not catch, as she places her hand on Lot Kruger's arm and he swings around suddenly and quickly to see who interrupts him. His face for a moment has a startled and annoyed, perhaps an angry, expression upon it, but as he turns and gazes upon Erma, smiles chase sternness away from his features, even as they did upon Livingston's flaccid face; the young lady's beauty seeming to have a similar effect upon both men, though Kruger's virile passion is ten times as strong as that of the prim New Yorker. Miss Travenion says hurriedly: "Mr. Kruger, I saw you here. I couldn't help following you. You have just come from the West--you have seen my father lately? Tell me, is he well? I haven't had a letter from him for a fortnight." He cries, "Miss Ermie, I am mighty glad your daddy hain't written, for if he had, I guess I shouldn't have heard your pretty voice, unless I hunted you up at your boarding-school." "Oh, you wouldn't have found me there. I have not been at Miss Hines' for nearly ten months."