"Ye-es," he responded, slowly: "I met her about fower months ago.
She'd bin makin' a tour of Californy with some friends, and I first
saw her aboard the cars this side of Reno. She lost her baggage-
checks, and I found them on the floor and gave 'em back to her, and
she thanked me. I reckon now it would be about the square thing to
go over thar and sorter recognize her." He stopped a moment, and
looked at us inquiringly.
"My dear sir," struck in the brilliant and fascinating Dashboard,
"if your hesitation proceeds from any doubt as to the propriety of
your attire, I beg you to dismiss it from your mind at once. The
tyranny of custom, it is true, compels your friend and myself to
dress peculiarly, but I assure you nothing could be finer than the
way that the olive green of your coat melts in the delicate yellow
of your cravat, or the pearl gray of your trousers blends with the
bright blue of your waistcoat, and lends additional brilliancy to
that massive oroide watch-chain which you wear."
To my surprise, the Man from Solano did not strike him.
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