"Yes," said I, mildly but firmly, "but we are going to Dawson to-morrow. Our train leaves at nine o'clock, and there will be so many to get tickets signed and baggage checked—"
He gave another laugh.
"Don't you worry, lady. Take life easy, the way we do here. If we miss one train, we take the next—unless we miss it, too!" He laughed again.
At that moment, bowing and smiling in the window of the ticket office, appeared a man—the nicest man!
"Will you see him bow!" gasped my friend. "Is he bowing at us? Why—are you bowing back?"
"Of course I am."
"What on earth does he want?"
"He wants to be nice to us," I replied; and she followed me inside.
The nice face was smiling through the little square window.
"I was upstairs," he said—ah, he had descended by way of the "Duchess," "and I heard you rapping on windows and doors"—the smile deepened, "so I came down to see if I could serve you."