The passengers drew a long breath, the reader closed his book,
the lady lifted the edge of her veil and delicately wiped her
forehead, over which a few damp tendrils of hair were clinging. Even a
distinguished-looking man who had sat as impenetrable and remote as a
statue in one of the front seats moved and turned his abstracted face to
the window. His deeply tanned cheek and clearly cut features harmonized
with the red dust that lay in the curves of his brown linen dust-cloak,
and completed his resemblance to a bronze figure. Yet it was Demorest,
changed only in coloring. Now, as five years ago, his abstraction had a
certain quality which the most familiar stranger shrank from disturbing.
But in the general relaxation of relief the novel-reader addressed him.
"Well, we ain't far from Boomville now, and it's all down-grade the rest
of the way. I reckon you'll be as glad to get a 'wash up' and a 'shake'
as the rest of us."
"I am afraid I won't have so early an opportunity," said Demorest, with
a faint, grave smile, "for I get off at the cross-road to Heavy Tree
Hill."
"Heavy Tree Hill!" repeated the other in surprise. "You ain't goin' to
Heavy Tree Hill? Why, you might have gone there direct by railroad,
and have been there four hours ago. You know there's a branch from the
Divide Railroad goes there straight to the hotel at Hymettus."
"Where?" said Demorest, with a puzzled smile.
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