"Yes; down 'Frisco way."
"Oh!"
Mr. Oates started. He had many acquaintances down 'Frisco way, but they could hardly be called friends, as they very much disapproved of his method of doing business.
"I've got an eye for faces," said Silas, in a jaunty manner, "so if you put up that veil I've no doubt I can fix you."
"I'm afraid I shall startle you."
"I'm not easily startled, madam. My nerves are in good working order."
"Are they? Then I'll put them to the test."
Mrs. Belswin suddenly threw back her veil and bent forward so that her face was in the strong light, whereupon Silas gave a whoop like a wild Indian, bounded from his chair and gasped.
"I'm afraid you over-estimate the working order of your nerves, Silas," said Mrs. Belswin, scoffingly; and then leaning back in her chair, waited for Mr. Oates to make the next move in the game.
"Great Scott! It's Mrs. Pethram. I thought you were dead!"