〃A　Death　in　the　Desert〃
  Everett　Hilgarde　was　conscious　that　the　man　in　the　seat
  across　the　aisle　was　looking　at　him　intently。　　He　was　a　large；
  florid　man；　wore　a　conspicuous　diamond　solitaire　upon　his　third
  finger；　and　Everett　judged　him　to　be　a　traveling　salesman　of　some
  sort。　　He　had　the　air　of　an　adaptable　fellow　who　had　been　about
  the　world　and　who　could　keep　cool　and　clean　under　almost　any
  circumstances。
  The　〃High　Line　Flyer；〃　as　this　train　was　derisively　called
  among　railroad　men；　was　jerking　along　through　the　hot　afternoon
  over　the　monotonous　country　between　Holdridge　and　Cheyenne。
  Besides　the　blond　man　and　himself　the　only　occupants　of　the　car
  were　two　dusty；　bedraggled…looking　girls　who　had　been　to　the
  Exposition　at　Chicago；　and　who　were　earnestly　discussing　the　cost
  of　their　first　trip　out　of　Colorado。　　The　four　uncomfortable
  passengers　were　covered　with　a　sediment　of　fine；　yellow　dust
  which　clung　to　their　hair　and　eyebrows　like　gold　powder。　　It　blew
  up　in　clouds　from　the　bleak；　lifeless　country　through　which　they
  passed；　until　they　were　one　color　with　the　sagebrush　and
  sandhills。　　The　gray…and…yellow　desert　was　varied　only　by
  occasional　ruins　of　deserted　towns；　and　the　little　red　boxes　of
  station　houses；　where　the　spindling　trees　and　sickly　vines　in　the
  bluegrass　yards　made　little　green　reserves　fenced　off　in　that
  confusing　wilderness　of　sand。
  As　the　slanting　rays　of　the　sun　beat　in　stronger　and
  stronger　through　the　car　windows；　the　blond　gentleman　asked　the
  ladies'　permission　to　remove　his　coat；　and　sat　in　his　lavender
  striped　shirt　sleeves；　with　a　black　silk　handkerchief　tucked
  carefully　about　his　collar。　　He　had　seemed　interested　in　Everett
  since　they　had　boarded　the　train　at　Holdridge；　and　kept
  glancing　at　him　curiously　and　then　looking　reflectively　out　of
  the　window；　as　though　he　were　trying　to　recall　something。　　But
  wherever　Everett　went　someone　was　almost　sure　to　look　at　him　with
  that　curious　interest；　and　it　had　ceased　to　embarrass　or　annoy　him。
  Presently　the　stranger；　seeming　satisfied　with　his　observation；
  leaned　back　in　his　seat；　half…closed　his　eyes；　and　began　softly
  to　whistle　the　〃Spring　Song〃　from　Proserpine；　the　cantata
  that　a　dozen　years　before　had　made　its　young　composer　famous　in　a
  night。　　Everett　had　heard　that　air　on　guitars　in　Old　Mexico；　on
  mandolins　at　college　glees；　on　cottage　organs　in　New　England
  hamlets；　and　only　two　weeks　ago　he　had　heard　it　played　on
  sleighbells　at　a　variety　theater　in　Denver。　　There　was　literally　no
  way　of　escaping　his　brother's　precocity。　　Adriance　could　live　on
  the　other　side　of　the　Atlantic；　where　his　youthful　indiscretions
  were　forgotten　in　his　mature　achievements；　but　his　brother　had
  never　been　able　to　outrun　Proserpine；　and　here　he　found　it
  again　in　the　Colorado　sand　hills。　　Not　that　Everett　was　exactly
  ashamed　of　Proserpine；　only　a　man　of　genius　could　have
  written　it；　but　it　was　the　sort　of　thing　that　a　man　of　genius
  outgrows　as　soon　as　he　can。
  Everett　unbent　a　trifle　and　smiled　at　his　neighbor　across
  the　aisle。　　Immediately　the　large　man　rose　and；　coming　over；
  dropped　into　the　seat　facing　Hilgarde；　extending　his　card。
  〃Dusty　ride；　isn't　it？　　I　don't　mind　it　myself；　I'm　used　to
  it。　　Born　and　bred　in　de　briar　patch；　like　Br'er　Rabbit。　　I've
  been　trying　to　place　you　for　a　long　time；　I　think　I　must　have　met
  you　before。〃
  〃Thank　you；〃　said　Everett；　taking　the　card；　〃my　name　is
  Hilgarde。　　You've　probably　met　my　brother；　Adriance；　people　often
  mistake　me　for　him。〃
  The　traveling　man　brought　his　hand　down　upon　his　knee　with
  such　vehemence　that　the　solitaire　blazed。
  〃So　I　was　right　after　all；　and　if　you're　not　Adriance
  Hilgarde；　you're　his　double。　　I　thought　I　couldn't　be　mistaken。
  Seen　him？　　Well；　I　guess！　　I　never　missed　one　of　his　recitals　at
  the　Auditorium；　and　he　played　the　piano　score　of　Proserpine
  through　to　us　once　at　the　Chicago　Press　Club。　　I　used　to　be　on
  the　Commercial　there　before　I　146　began　to　travel
  for　the　publishing　department　of　the　concern。　　So　you're　Hilgarde's
  brother；　and　here　I've　run　into　you　at　the　jumping…off　place。
  Sounds　like　a　newspaper　yarn；　doesn't　it？〃
  The　traveling　man　laughed　and　offered　Everett　a　cigar；　and
  plied　him　with　questions　on　the　only　subject　that　people　ever
  seemed　to　care　to　talk　to　Everett　about。　　At　length　the　salesman
  and　the　two　girls　alighted　at　a　Colorado　way　station；　and　Everett
  went　on　to　Cheyenne　alone。
  The　train　pulled　into　Cheyenne　at　nine　o'clock；　late　by　a
  matter　of　four　hours　or　so；　but　no　one　seemed　particularly
  concerned　at　its　tardiness　except　the　station　agent；　who　grumbled
  at　being　kept　in　the　office　overtime　on　a　summer　night。　　When
  Everett　alighted　from　the　train　he　walked　down　the　platform　and
  stopped　at　the　track　crossing；　uncertain　as　to　what　direction　he
  should　take　to　reach　a　hotel。　　A　phaeton　stood　near　the　crossing；
  and　a　woman　held　the　reins。　　She　was　dressed　in　white；　and　her
  figure　was　clearly　silhouetted　against　the　cushions；　though　it
  was　too　dark　to　see　her　face。　　Everett　had　scarcely　noticed　her；
  when　the　switch　engine　came　puffing　up　from　the　opposite
  direction；　and　the　headlight　threw　a　strong　glare　of　light　on　his
  face。　　Suddenly　the　woman　in　the　phaeton　uttered　a　low　cry　and
  dropped　the　reins。　　Everett　started　forward　and　caught　the
  horse's　head；　but　the　animal　only　lifted　its　ears　and　whisked　its
  tail　in　impatient　surprise。　　The　woman　sat　perfectly　still；　her
  head　sunk　between　her　shoulders　and　her　handkerchief　pressed　to
  her　face。　　Another　woman　came　out　of　the　depot　and　hurried　toward
  the　phaeton；　crying；　〃Katharine；　dear；　what　is　the　matter？〃
  Everett　hesitated　a　moment　in　painful　embarrassment；　then
  lifted　his　hat　and　passed　on。　　He　was　accustomed　to　sudden
  recognitions　in　the　most　impossible　places；　especially　by　women；
  but　this　cry　out　of　the　night　had　shaken　him。
  While　Everett　was　breakfasting　the　next　morning；　the　headwaiter
  leaned　over　his　chair　to　murmur　that　there　was　a　gentleman　waiting
  to　see　him　in　the　parlor。　　Everett　finished　his　coffee　and　went　in
  the　direction　indicated；　where　he　found　his　visitor　restlessly
  pacing　the　floor。　　His　whole　manner　betrayed　a　high　degree　of
  agitation；　though　his　physique　was　not　that　of　a　man　whose　nerves
  lie　near　the　surface。　　He　was　something　below　medium　height；
  square…shouldered　and　solidly　built。　　His　thick；　closely　cut　hair
  was　beginning　to　show　gray　about　the　ears；　and　his　bronzed　face　was
  heavily　lined。　　His　square　brown　hands　were　locked　behind　him；　and
  he　held　his　shoulders　like　a　man　conscious　of　responsibilities；
  yet；　as　he　turned　to　greet　Everett；　there　was　an　incongruous
  diffidence　in　his　address。
  〃Good　morning；　Mr。　Hilgarde；〃　he　said；　extending　his　hand；
  〃I　found　your　name　on　the　hotel　register。　　My　name　is　Gaylord。
  I'm　afraid　my　sister　startled　you　at　the　station　last　night；　Mr。
  Hilgarde；　and　I've　come　around　to　apologize。〃
  〃Ah！　　The　young　lady　in　the　phaeton？　　I'm　sure　I　didn't　know
  whether　I　had　anything　to　do　with　her　alarm　or　not。　　If　I　did；　it
  is　I　who　owe　the　apology。〃
  The　man　colored　a　little　under　the　dark　brown　of　his　face。
  〃Oh；　it's　nothing　you　could　help；　sir；　I　fully　understand
  that。　　You　see；　my　sister　used　to　be　a　pupil　of　your　brother's；
  and　it　seems　you　favor　him；　and　when　the　switch　engine　threw　a
  light　on　your　face　it　startled　her。〃
  Everett　wheeled　about　in　his　chair。　　〃Oh！　Katharine　Gaylord！
  Is　it　possible！　　Now　it's　you　who　have　given　me　a　turn。　　Why；　I
  used　to　know　her　when　I　was　a　boy。　　What　on　earth〃
  〃Is　she　doing　here？〃　said　Gaylord；　grimly　filling　out　the
  pause。　　〃You've　got　at　the　heart　of　the　matter。　　You　knew　my
  sister　had　been　in　bad　health　for　a　long　time？〃
  〃No；　I　had　never　heard　a　word　of　that。　　The　last　I　knew　of
  her　she　was　singing　in　London。　　My　brother　and　I　correspond
  infrequently　and　seldom　get　beyond　family　matters。　　I　am　deeply
  sorry　to　hear　this。　　There　are　more　reasons　why　I　am　concerned
  than　I　can　tell　you。〃
  The　lines　in　Charley　Gaylord's　brow　relaxed　a　little。
  〃What　I'm　trying　to　say；　Mr。　Hilgarde；　is　that　she　wants　to　see
  you。　　I　hate　to　ask　you；　but　she's　so　set　on　it。　　We　live　several
  miles　out　of　town；　but　my　rig