I--I was so fussed yesterday I did n't realize--" "Aren't you mistaken ?" She had looked at him with a slight smile.
Fairchild did not catch the inflection.
"Oh, no.

I 'm the man, you know, who helped you change that tire on the Denver road yesterday." "Pardon me." This time one brown eye had wavered ever so slightly, indicating some one behind Fairchild.

"But I was n't on the Denver road yesterday, and if you 'll excuse me for saying it, I don't remember ever having seen you before." There was a little light in her eyes which took away the sting of the denial, a light which seemed to urge caution, and at the same time to tell Fairchild that she trusted him to do his part as a gentleman in a thing she wished forgotten.

More fussed than ever, he drew back and bent low in apology, while she passed on.

Half a block away, a young man rounded a corner and, seeing her, hastened to join her.