One of the men was tall and fat, and prosperous to the casual eye, as he most surely must have been offensive to the fastidious. One of them was short and fat, with pointed ears that made him look quite fox-faced. And the other was a reporter. From his appearance one would have said I hope, and truly, that only pursuit of his calling could have brought him in such company. These three, then, sat for a time and looked eloquently at each other. They were not loquacious about it, not verbally; and finally the tall fat one heaved himself from his seat. "I've got a hunch," he declared, "and God never forgives a man who doesn't ride one." Certainly he was a strange person to be mentioning God so complacently. "Pull the bell cord if that fool engineer tries to start without me." And he left the car. So presently another shadow fell athwart Blue Jeans' lap. He did not bother to raise his head this time, however; he was nursing a bruised hand and craved solitude. The fat man stood and looked down at him until he realized that the other was likely never to look up, unless he did something besides impose his plainly unwelcome presence upon him. Therefore he cleared his throat--"hm-m-m." "Don't hm-m-m me," snarled Blue Jeans promptly. "And get out of my light." In his own way the huge man was a genius, for surely nothing else could have accomplished it. "Warm, isn't it?" he commented; and at that inanity Blue Jeans raised his head. The huge man had his first fair view of the other's fine hard youth; and while he observed the self-possessed eyes and long nose, acquisitive and courageous, Blue Jeans devoted the interval to a counter-scrutiny. He scanned the newcomer from head to foot, silk hose and hair-line suit and expensive panama. The rings upon those pudgy fingers held longest his wandering eye, the blue-white fortune in the burnt-orange cravat. But all this seemed to kindle no approval. "Prosperous!" he muttered bitterly. "Prosperous! And yet I don't hate you like I did that superintendent. Just as much maybe, but not just the same. . . . Go away!" But the huge man smiled and stood his ground until finally Blue Jeans slanted his head at him, wickedly, and fell to talking again. "I could pluck that stone from out your tie _that_ easy!" And his voice held no assurance that he would not act upon his words. "Just as easy! Yes, and I could beat you over the head with my gun--oh, sure I've got one!--just like he beat that roan horse, and strip your pockets and be clean away before one of those"--he nodded over his shoulder at the train--"could think to call for help. And thinking to call for help would come quicker to them than thinking to help without calling. And Girl o' Mine would carry me clear in five minutes." He paused remorselessly, as if to let this sink in, but out of the silence, "I don't scare easily," the huge man said.