MeanwhiletheSageWoodandPineBarrenstagecoach，profoundlyoblivious——afterthemannerofallhumaninvention——ofeverythingbutitsregularfunction，toileddustilyoutofthehigherplainandbeganthegratefuldescentofawoodedcanyon，whichwas，infact，theculminatingpointofthedepression，justdescribed，alongwhichtheshadowyprocessionwasslowlyadvancing，hardlyamileintherearandflankofthevehicle。MissJuliaCantire，whohadfacedthedustvolleysoftheplainunflinchingly，asbecameasoldier’sdaughter，herestooduprightandshookherself——herprettyheadandfigureemerginglikeagoddessfromtheenvelopingsilvercloud。AtleastMr。Boyle，relegatedtothebackseat，thoughtso——althoughherconversationandattentionshadbeenchieflydirectedtothedriverandmailagent。Once，whenhehadlight-heartedlyaddressedaremarktoher，ithadbeenreceivedwithadistinctbutunpromisingpolitenessthathadmadehimdesistfromfurtherattempts，yetwithoutabatementofhischeerfulness，orresentmentoftheevidentamusementhistwomalecompanionsgotoutofhis“snub。“Indeed，itistobefearedthatMissJuliahadcertainprejudicesofposition，andmayhavethoughtthata“drummer“——orcommercialtraveler——wasnomorefittingcompanyforthedaughterofamajorthananordinarypeddler。ButitwasmoreprobablethatMr。Boyle’sreputationasahumorist——atelleroffunnystoriesandabooncompanionofmen——wasinconsistentwiththefeminineidealofhighandexaltedmanhood。Themanwho“setsthetableinaroar“isapttobesecretlydetestedbythesex，tosaynothingoftheotherobviousreasonswhyJulietsdonotlikeMercutios！

　　ForsomesuchcauseasthisDickBoylewasobligedtoamusehimselfsilently，aloneonthebackseat，withthoseliberalpowersofobservationwhichnaturehadgivenhim。Onenteringthecanyonhehadnoticedthedeviousroutethecoachhadtakentoreachit，andhadalreadyinventedanimprovedroutewhichshouldenterthedepressionatthepointwheretheIndianshadalreadyunknowntohimplungedintoit，andhadconceivedaroadthroughthetangledbrushthatwouldshortenthedistancebysomemiles。Hehadfigureditout，andbelievedthatit“wouldpay。“Butbythistimetheywerebeginningthesomewhatsteepanddifficultascentofthecanyonontheotherside。Thevehiclehadnotcrawledmanyyardsbeforeitstopped。DickBoyleglancedaround。MissCantirewasgettingdown。Shehadexpressedawishtowalktherestoftheascent，andthecoachwastowaitforheratthetop。Fosterhadeffusivelybeggedhertotakeherowntime——“therewasnohurry！“

　　Boyleglancedalittlelonginglyafterhergracefulfigure，releasedfromhercrampedpositiononthebox，asitflittedyouthfullyinandoutofthewaysidetrees；hewouldliketohavejoinedherinthewoodlandramble，butevenhisgoodnaturewasnotproofagainstherindifference。Ataturnintheroadtheylostsightofher，and，asthedriverandmailagentweredeepinadiscussionabouttheindistincttrack，Boylelapsedintohissilentstudyofthecountry。Suddenlyheutteredaslightexclamation，andquietlyslippedfromthebackofthetoilingcoachtotheground。Theactionwas，however，quicklynotedbythedriver，whopromptlyputhisfootonthebrakeandpulledup。“Wot’supnow？“

　　hegrowled。

　　Boyledidnotreply，butranbackafewstepsandbegansearchingeagerlyontheground。

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