He followed it down the long platform, and when he went aboard his car, he found it on one of the seats of the section he was to occupy. He settled himself with his newspaper and was absorbed in its perusal, when the owner of the satchel emerged from the smoking compartment at the other end of the car. Stockily built and very muscular, he came swinging down the aisle to drop loosely into the seat opposite him. Stephen glanced over the top of his paper and caught his eye, shrewd, inquiring, with the least suggestion of a squint, fixed upon him. His first feeling was still so strong, that he was impelled to say, putting aside his paper: “I beg your pardon, but haven't I met you somewhere before?” “No, sir, I guess not,” rejoined the stranger, and his clear blue eye narrowed. “Probably I was mistaken after all,” said Stephen apologetically. He would have stopped with this, but the other now asked abruptly. “You ever been West, my friend?” “What do you call the West?” “Well, not Jersey;” and he grinned, and jerked his thumb in the direction of the flat landscape beyond the car-window. “Say Colorado.” Stephen shook his head. The other slid deeper into his seat and extended his legs. He was apparently grateful for the opportunity Stephen had given him for speech. “Give me Denver or Kansas City; those are what I call towns, and Omaha's a right bustling little burg, too; but I'm coming back here when I make a million. It ain't in my class now; it's no place for yearlings.” Then he became communicative. Colorado was his State; he was in cattle; he had been in mines, but cattle suited him better, and he had been lucky. This luck of his was evidently such a recent matter that it was plain to Stephen he had not yet fully accustomed himself to it. “You fooled me, too, for a fact. I had the same notion you had,” he said, suddenly renewing the conversation which after a little time they had permitted to lapse. “What notion was that?” asked Stephen pleasantly. “Why the notion that we'd met somewhere. These resemblances are mighty curious; ain't they? You look like a fellow I've seen, but to save my life I can't say where.” There was another pause. He stared at Stephen, and Stephen stared back with a puzzled expression on his face. “Did you say you were going through to Chicago?” the young fellow asked. “No, no further than Ohio. The central part of the State, to a place—” suddenly it flashed upon Stephen who he was. He leaned forward and smilingly held out his hand. “Why, you're Reddy!” he exclaimed. The other started. He shot Stephen a quick glance. “You're dead sure about that, my friend?” he demanded. “You ain't just chancing it on the colour of my hair?” “Yes, I am dead sure. Don't you remember me? I'm Stephen—. Stephen Landray.”