“Reckon you haven’t met this one,” continued her informer. “He only left the ranch yesterday, and must have expected to meet some arrivals in this town to-day. They didn’t arrive, and now he’s got to stay over and do some waiting, I’m told. If you happened to know him, it would help kill time for you.”
“That would be very pleasant for me, but he is not around, and I’ll be going on to Grand Canyon in a few hours’ time.”
“You must have struck a lucky day, Ma’am, for here comes Mr. Belnord—the man I was just telling you about. He’s strolling across the verandah this minute, as though he wanted to kill time. He’ll ask me if there is any telegrams or ‘phone messages in another moment,” whispered the gossipy clerk.
Mrs. Alexander knew the man to be a stranger, but she made up her mind to get acquainted with a millionaire who might be looking for a companion to wile away wearisome hours. Hence she planned quickly.
“Oh, yes! I met him in ——” exclaimed she.
Just as the frowning gentleman reached the desk to address the clerk, the lady who was standing there dropped her costly handbag. Naturally the newcomer picked it up and bowed politely as he returned it to the owner.
“Oh, thank you,” said Mrs. Alexander in a demure tone. Then in a surprised way, held out a daintily gloved hand, as she exclaimed gladly: “Why! If it isn’t Mr. Belnord! To think of meeting you in this out-of-the-way spot. The last time I saw you was over a year ago, at a fête in Chicago.”
She acted the part of a delighted old friend to perfection, and Mr. Belnord, chagrined that he could not place so charming a lady, accepted her word for it and kept rummaging through the memory cells of his brain for a possible clue to her identity.
They shook hands like old friends, and Mrs. Alexander began to rattle off her complaints against a railroad that failed to run a train to Grand Canyon to accommodate her. Then she added naively: “My father, Mr. Alexander, and my younger sister, Dorothy, were to have met me here to-day, but I suppose they went on with Mr. Dalken and Mr. Fuzzier to visit the cliffs of the Verde Valley. I am weary of so many side-trips, and I decided to meet them here. Do you remember my sister, Mr. Belnord?”
“No, Miss Alexander, I’m ashamed to say I do not. I remember I saw nothing but you, when you were present, remember,” replied the gallant gentleman of forty years. “But Fate has been more than kind to me to-day in giving me an opportunity to amuse you while you are delayed by the wretched train service.”