"Don't mention it. All I will ask in return is that you will help me get some letters out of the way to-day," returned Glover, laying a pencil and note-book on the desk before her. "The other work may go till to-morrow. By the way, have you found a boarding-place?" "A boarding-place?" "I understand you were looking for one." "I have one." "The first letter is to Mr. Bucks--I fancy you know _his_ address--" She did not begin with alacrity. Their eyes met, and in hers there was a queerish expression. "I'm not at all sure I ought to undertake this," she said rapidly and with a touch of disdainful mischief. "Give yourself no uneasiness--" he began. "It is you I fear who are giving yourself uneasiness," she interrupted. "No, I dictate very slowly. Let's make a trial anyway." To avoid embarrassment he looked the other way when he saw she had taken up the pencil. "My Dear Bucks," he began. "Your letter with programme for the Pittsburg party is received. Why am I to be nailed to the cross with part of the entertaining? There's no hunting now. The hair is falling off grizzlies and Goff wouldn't take his dogs out at this season for the President of the United States. What would you think of detailing Paddy McGraw to give the young men a fast ride--they have heard of him. I talked yesterday with one of them. He wanted to see a train robber and I introduced him to Conductor O'Brien, but he never saw the joke, and you know how depressing explanations are. Don't, my dear Bucks, put me on a private car with these people for four weeks--my brother died of paresis----" "Oh!" He turned. The stenographer's cheeks were burning; she was astonishingly pretty. "I'm going too fast, I'm afraid," said Glover. "I do not think I had better attempt to continue," she answered, rising. Her eyes fairly burned the brown mountain engineer. "As you like," he replied, rising too, "It was hardly fair to ask you to work to-day. By the way, Mr. Bucks forgot to give me your name." "Is it necessary that you should have my name?" "Not in the least," returned Glover with insistent consideration, "any name at all will do, so I shall know what to call you." For an instant she seemed unable to catch her breath, and he was about to explain that the rarefied air often affected newcomers in that way when she answered with some intensity, "I am Miss Brock. I never have occasion to use any other name." Whatever result she looked for from her spirited words, his manner lost none of its urbanity. "Indeed? That's the name of our Pittsburg magnate. You ought to be sure of a position under _him_--you might turn out to be a relation," he laughed, softly. "Quite possibly." "Do not return this afternoon," he continued as she backed away from him. "This mountain air is exhausting at first----" "Your letters?" she queried with an expression that approached pleasant irony. "They may wait."