faced her. She was looking straight at him, and as their eyes met he saw
hers widen eloquently. She half paused as she started to pass him, and
it seemed to him that she was about to speak. He smiled gravely,
puzzled, hesitant, for her manner indicated that she knew him, or was
mistaking him for another. He paused also, and both stood for a fleeting
instant face to face, silent.

Lawler noted that the woman was beautiful, well dressed, with a manner
unmistakably eastern. He decided that she had mistaken him for someone
of her acquaintance, for he felt assured he never had seen her before.
He bowed, saying lowly:

"I beg your pardon, ma'am; I reckon it's a case of mistaken identity."

"Why," she returned, laughing; "I thought sure I knew you. Are you quite
certain that I don't?"

There was guile in her eyes; so far back that he could not see it, or so
cleverly veiled with something else that he was not aware of it. It
seemed to him that the eyes were merely engaging, and frankly curious.
He did not see the admiration in them, the elation, and the demure
coquetry.

"I reckon you'll have to be the judge of that, ma'am. You certainly have
the advantage of me."

"You are--" Her pause was eloquent.

"I am Kane Lawler, ma'am."