She had not meant to be interested in him, for she had, in her first glance at him, mentally decided that he was no more interesting than many another ill-dressed and uncouth westerner whom she had seen on the journey toward Dawes. To be sure, she had seen signs of strength in him, mental and physical, but that had been when she looked at him coming toward her down the aisle. But even then he had not interested her; her interest began when she noted his interest in the conversation of her traveling companions. And then she had noticed several things about him that had escaped her in other glances at him. For one thing, despite the astonishment in his eyes, she had observed the cold keenness of them, the odd squint at the corners, where little wrinkles, splaying outward, indicated either deliberate impudence or concealed mirth. She was rather inclined to believe it the latter, though she would not have been surprised to discover the wrinkles to mean the former. And then she had noted his mouth; his lips had been straight and firm; she had been sure they were set resolutely when she had surprised him looking at her. That had seemed to indicate that he had taken more than a passing interest in what he had overheard. She speculated long over the incident, finally deciding that much would depend upon what he had overheard. There was only one way to determine that, and at breakfast in the dining-car she interrogated Carrington. “Of course, you and uncle are going to Dawes on business, and I am merely tagging along to see if I can find any trace of my father. But have you any business secrets that might interest an eavesdropper? On a train, for instance—a train going toward Dawes?” “What do you mean?” Carrington’s eyes flashed as he leaned toward her. “Have you and uncle talked business within hearing distance of a stranger?” Carrington’s face flushed; he exchanged a swift glance with the other man. “You mean that clodhopper with the tight-fitting hand-me-down in the seat behind us—yesterday? He was asleep!” “Then you did talk business—business secrets,” smiled the girl. “I thought really big men commonly concealed their business secrets from the eager ears of outsiders.” She laughed aloud at Carrington’s scowl, and then went on: “I don’t think the clodhopper was asleep. In fact, I rather think he was very wide awake. I wouldn’t say for certain, but I _think_ he was awake. You see, when I came back to talk with you he was sitting very straight, and his eyes were wide open.