"Not much for scenery, is it?" The offensively garrulous passenger directed his remarks to the young man, who abstractedly surveyed the landscape. "No, sir," he continued, "you've got to go West for Scenery. Ever been West?" The young man nodded without removing his gaze from the window. "I live in Colo_ray_do," the other persisted. "Went out there for my health--and I stayed. Johnson's my name. I'm in the mining business." His eyes swept the compartment to include the others in the too evident geniality of their glance. "Now that we're all acquainted," he ventured--"how about a little game of seven-up, just to pass away the time? How about you, dad?" Thus flippantly he addressed the ruddy-faced, middle-aged gentleman in gray tweeds, whose attention was apparently concentrated upon the lengthening ash of his cigar. With enthusiasm undampened by the curtness of the latter's refusal, he turned to the remaining passenger--a youth upon whose lip sprouted a tenderly pruned mustache, so obviously new that it looked itchy. "How about you, captain?" The top-heavy youth closed his magazine and unlocked a brain-cell. "I don't mind." He ostentatiously consulted a very gold watch. "Must be in Chicago this evening," he muttered quite audibly, pulling a ten, twent, thirt frown that caused his labial foliage to rustle with importance. He drew from his pocket a card upon which the ink was scarcely dry and handed it to the effervescent Johnson, who read aloud: Mr. LINCOLN S. TARBEL Municipal Investigator "You see," explained its owner, "it has reached the ears of the managing editor of my paper in South Bend that vice in various forms flourishes in Chicago! Thereupon he immediately sent for me and ordered a sweeping investigation." Further information was forestalled by the entrance of a suave-mannered individual who introduced himself as a cigar salesman, and who was readily induced to take a hand in the game. The lightning-like glances that passed between the newcomer and the Western Mr. Johnson, while entirely unnoted by the investigator of municipal vice, aroused the interest of the athletic young man to the point of assenting to make the fourth. Here, evidently, was something about to be pulled off, and he decided to be actively among those present. The game progressed through several uneventful deals. Suddenly Johnson, scrutinizing a hand dealt him by the cigar salesman, emitted a low whistle. "If we were playing poker now I'd have something to say!" "Oh, I don't know! I've got some poker hand myself," opined the dealer. "Discard one, to make a five-card hand, and I bet you five dollars I beat you." "You're on!" Each produced a bill which he handed to the athletic young man to hold. "Three eights and a pair of deuces," boasted the Westerner, exposing the full hand upon the board.