He preceded her over and over the sides of the seats, opened the car door, which was not jammed, and helped her to the ground. And then, his heart of a parent having wakened to the situation, he forgot her and forsook her. He pulled a time-table from his pocket; he consulted a mile-post, which had had the good sense to stop opposite the end of the car from which he had alighted. It was forty miles to Carcasonne--and only two to Grub City--a lovely city of the plain, consisting of one corrugated-iron saloon. He remembered to have seen it--with its great misleading sign, upon which were emblazoned the noble words: "Life-Saving Station." "Grub City--hire buggy--drive Carcasonne," he muttered, and without a glance at the train which had betrayed him, or at the lady who had fallen upon him, so to speak, out of the skies, he moved forward with great strides, leaped a puddle, regained the embankment, and hastened along the ties, skipping every other one. II Progress is wonderful in the Far West. Since he had last seen it only a year had passed, and yet the lovely city of Grub had doubled its size. It now consisted of two saloons: the old "Life-Saving Station" and the new "Like Father Used to Take." The proprietor of the new saloon was the old saloon-keeper's son-in-law, and these, with their flourishing and, no doubt, amiable families, were socially gathered on the shady side of the Life-Saving Station. The shade was much the same sort that is furnished by trees in more favored localities, and the population of Grub City was enjoying itself. The rival wives, mother and daughter, ample, rosy women, were busy stitching baby clothes. Children already arrived were playing with a soap-box and choice pebbles and a tin mug at keeping saloon. A sunburned-haired, flaming maiden of sixteen was at work upon a dress of white muslin, and a young man of eighteen, brother by his looks to the younger saloon-keeper, heartily feasted a pair of honest blue eyes upon her plump hands as they came and went with the needle. It looked as if another year might see a third saloon in Grub City. Saterlee approached the group, some of whose elders had been watching and discussing his approach. "Do any of you own a boat?" he asked. "Train D-railed?" queried the proprietor of the Life-Saving Station, "or was you just out for a walk?" The family and family-in-law laughed appreciatively. "The train put to sea in a washout," said Saterlee, "and all the passengers were drowned." "Where you want to git?" asked the proprietor. "Carcasonne," said Saterlee. "Not the junction--the resort." "Well," said the proprietor, "there's just one horse and just one trap in Grub City, and they ain't for hire." Again the united families laughed appreciatively. It was evident that a prophet is not always without honor in his own land.