At the sound of the voice Mrs. Rylands threw the door wide open, and as
her eyes fell upon the speaker--her unknown guest--she recoiled with a
little cry, and a white, startled face. Yet the stranger was young and
handsome, dressed with a scrupulousness and elegance which even the
stress of travel had not deranged, and he was looking at her with
a smile of recognition, mingled with that careless audacity and
self-possession which seemed to be the characteristic of his face.

"Jack Hamlin!" she gasped.

"That's me, all the time," he responded easily, "and YOU'RE Nell
Montgomery!"

"How did you know I was here? Who told you?" she said impetuously.

"Nobody! never was so surprised in my life! When you opened that door
just now you might have knocked me down with a feather." Yet he spoke
lazily, with an amused face, and looked at her without changing his
position.

"But you MUST have known SOMETHING! It was no mere accident," she went
on vehemently, glancing around the room.

"That's where you slip up, Nell," said Hamlin imperturbably. "It WAS an
accident and a bad one. My horse lamed himself coming down the grade. I
sighted the nearest shanty, where I thought I might get another horse.
It happened to be this." For the first time he changed his attitude, and
leaned back contemplatively in his chair.

She came towards him quickly. "You didn't use to lie, Jack," she said