Half-Way: A Story in Three Chapters

CHAPTER II.

RELATES TO THE TELEGRAPH OPERATOR AT HALF-WAY.

THE day operator of the telegraph at Half-Way was a young girl, eighteen or nineteen more or less, with dark eyes of no particular color that I have ever been able to discover, but very bright good-looking eyes nevertheless. That she was somewhat delicate might have been inferred from her slender figure and thin but not sallow countenance. Of ill health there was no particular evidence, however. It is true that her nose looked a little pinched, while the thin nostrils sometimes worked nervously when she became perplexed with some mental labor. She was neither tall nor short, neither queenly nor the reverse, and, not to be too tedious over a description that in all probability will never be read, she was simply a very womanly woman, whose figure and deportment were calculated to interest and attract one, and whose good-nature and vivacity kept, as they had the appearance of keeping, her in good health, in spite of constitutional defects.

Her chief employment was to report the trains, and generally to do all the railway telegraphing for that place which might be required during office hours, with occasionally a private message whenever such were offered. The business was very light, although sometimes very tedious ; she could read and sew and knit, but of these she became tired. The hot sun of the long summer days pouring down upon the lonely silent depot, which for hours and hours was tenanted only by herself, no company but the noisy machines, and all day long a prisoner, it was no wonder that she sometimes wearied of the necessity of her position too. Really it was a great relaxation when some one came, and little matter also if it was only some one, to relieve the tediousness of those long silent sleepy hours. The old landlord sitting afar off in the doorway of the Metropolitan was a comfort, for he looked as lonely as she sometimes felt, and misery they say likes company. Those, too, were days to engender loneliness ; when butterflies gather about damp places with the pigs, if such damp places may be found ; when grasshoppers and locusts hop about in the dust like bats in daylight; when bees are almost too lazy to sip honey from the drooping flowers ; when all the houses are darkened, and when in country places two P. M. is more silent and desolate than midnight.

HalfWay was revelling in the silence of one of these summer afternoons, and about the most silent portion of the afternoon too, when a gentlemanly dressed individual of twenty-five quitted the Metropolitan, and sauntered leisurely toward the depot. As he walked slowly along by the side of the roadway, he struck furious blows with his cane at the adjacent thistle-heads, as if they had been so many foes opposing the march of a conqueror. Really he was a strange-looking figure for those parts, in his white clothing, his broadbrimmed straw hat with fluttering ribbon, his patent-leather shoes and kid gloves, and the only individual to be seen out of doors too. No wonder the landlord of the Metropolitan watched him with curious eye, and ceased not to keep his aforementioned curious eye upon the door of the depot long after the stranger had disappeared within it. But the curious eye became a weary eye, and the weary eye a sleepy eye ; but neither the curious eye nor the weary eye nor the sleepy eye looked beyond that doorway the livelong afternoon. Yet the hours flew by, nevertheless, and what with speculating and smoking and dozing and dreaming the little landlord was watching the spruce young gentleman when he came out of the depot again, and of course he did n’t imagine the strange individual had passed so many long hours to no profit. Indeed, had the little landlord been such a consummate blockhead as to imagine such nonsense, the appearance of the pretty operator of Half-Way at the identical moment would have confronted him with a visible evidence of his blockheadedness. Having been a witness to so much, the little landlord was about to close the curious eye ; but when he saw the two walk away together, he opened it again, thinking he would just see which way they went. And now as they came near he opened a curious ear and tried hard to catch a word or two of the conversation ; but he only heard the laughter and a kind of subdued chatting, which gave those engaged much more pleasure apparently than it did him.

How ungratefully the little operator repaid him whose chubby form, as seated on the veranda of the Metropolitan, had been not only company but comfort ; not once did she even look toward him, not once toward the Metropolitan. It was in another direction she looked now, because the little landlord was in an eclipse. Ah ! how very much interested in the young gentleman she appeared ! How wistfully she looked at him ! How musically she laughed ! How fast she talked ! How pretty and interesting she was, to be sure ! And so she went over the hill with the strange gentleman, and the landlord of the Metropolitan saw no more of them for a time, but noticed how late the fine young gentleman came back to the Metropolitan that night.

He had arrived the night before, but had engaged no room ; now, however, the landlord shook his head just a little when he proposed to engage the best rooms in the house for a week. But when that week was gone and he engaged them for another week, the landlord shook his head outright. And at the end of another week, when he engaged them for one week more, it required all the mental exertion of the aforementioned landlord to resist an impulse to ejaculate ‘‘whew ! ” without further palaver, and so have the whole business of the interloper settled on the spot. But one day the stranger sat down and wrote a very short letter to his attorney, which, after giving certain instructions in regard to business matters, went on as follows : —

“. . . . And now, Mr. Joe, about this trip of mine. I came here, as you know, to head off that sly old fox. But I’ve given that up for the present. I don’t hear anything, and I don’t know that I care anything now about losing the Bolton estate. This is the most delightful little place I was ever in, and I can’t tell when I shall be home. If I am needed, write or telegraph to your client,

“ WEYMAN.”

“ Ah ! ” said the lawyer, when that letter came, “ there is better hunting than fox-hunting.”

But another week having gone by, Mr. Weyman sat down and wrote another letter, which, after a very few words regarding business, read thus : —

“We have excellent fishing here, and such good times generally that I shall not go to any of the wateringplaces this season. Please communicate with me at this place until further notice.

“ WEYMAN.”

When this letter came, the lawyer longed to cast a fly in Weyman’s stream. But after a week’s longing another letter came, which was shorter than all the rest and whose burden was : —

“ Business is all out of the question. I’m out of the mood. Please ask my opinion no more. Do just as you like for your client,

“ WEYMAN.”

At which last letter the attorney said his client was in the hands of the Philistines, and if he meant by that, that his client was deeply in love, the attorney was right.

Mr. Weyman had mailed his last letter and was walking to join the pretty operator at the depot, and was very thoughtful. “It will never do,” he said to himself; “no, no, no, it will not do.” Then he felt sorely perplexed, and then he became angry with himself and struck spitefully at the thistleheads until he got around to the depot, where the pretty operator was found waiting as usual.

“ I must go home soon,” said Mr. Weyman that night, in a tone he meant should sound feelingly, but which was indifferent.

“ Go home !” said his companion, with surprise.

“ Why not ? ” he asked, looking down.

“ Sure enough, Mr. Weyman,” she answered with an effort that Mr. Weyman was not sharp enough to detect “ I shall be very sorry to lose you, though.”

“ I have had much pleasure here, and shall be sorry to lose you, too,” said Mr. Weyman; “but you know the world is full of farewells.”

“Yes,” she answered, smiling, “and more ’s the pity; but how soon must you go ? ”

“Within a day or two,” he answered.

Then there was a long, long silence, and after that a hasty “good night ” at the gate, because he feared that he might yield to a temptation his pride told him to resist, and she, because she did not dare to show her woman’s weakness. But their hands did not separate that night till their backs were turned upon each other ; and even then the finger tips parted with reluctance.

After he had gone, however, the pretty operator came out of the house again and stood at the gate a long time, looking up at the stars bonnetless. Then after a while she wiped away certain little drops that twinkled in her eyelashes, and went inside again, and then, O fortuitous circumstance ! back came Mr. Weyman just to look up at the house which sheltered her, and bless it because it did shelter her. As he walked by he looked up at the window which he knew to be her window, and felt sick at heart, for “ what,” he asked himself, “are all my possessions compared with this woman?" So the man who came out of the city to plot and discover had been shorn of his locks, and as he went on his way his pride yielded, for he spoke again unto himself and said, “ I will see her tomorrow.”

But at that moment a little man was sitting very quietly in the shadow across the way, twirling a gold-headed cane between his fingers, and looking up at the window too, but nevertheless looking at Mr. Weyman as well. Now this little man it seems did not look so favorably upon Mr. Weyman, if one may be permitted to judge from his subsequent behavior ; for Mr. Weyman was no sooner out of sight than he got upon his feet and crossed over with about as many peculiar motions as they make when going through that figure of a quadrille, which motion he did not discontinue until he stood on the stoop, ringing the door-bell violently. Presently he made his entry in the same manner, the door banging heavily behind him.

Mr. Weyman, after “ tossing ” himself from side to side upon his suffocating bed, in the suffocating air of his room at the Metropolitan for a long time, during which he worked himself up to a fearful pitch of excitement and then worked himself down again, fell asleep, and dreamt innumerable dreams, not one of which, however, had anything to do with the hasty packing of trunks that night at the little brick house over the hill.

“ Come, Georgie,” said the little man, “ hurry up, we have n’t a moment to spare.”

“ Why can’t we wait, uncle, until morning ? ” asked the pretty operator, hard at work.

“ Because we must not, my dear.”

“ What will Mr. Dyke, the superintendent say, if I go away without notice ? ”

“ Let him say what he pleases. He ’ll ask your pardon for whatever he says against you, that’s all. So hurry up, Georgie, and don’t trouble yourself about that.”

But the more she hurried the more perplexed she got and the less she accomplished. Then the little man began to lend a helping hand ; but the more he tried to do the more he didn’t do, with doing everything wrong, so that he put his niece out of patience and then got out of patience himself.

“ Come, hurry up,” said he, when Georgie’s expostulations had driven him off. “Don’t I say we haven’t a moment to lose. Stuff ’em in, stuff ’em in any way.”

“ Well, uncle, you might have given me notice, I think. I can’t spoil all these things because you’re in a fidget.”

“ I ’ll buy new for all you spoil; you need n’t be afraid of spoiling ’em. So hurry up.”

“ I am hurrying, uncle, as fast as I can.”

“ You need n’t fold your dresses that way. It won’t hurt to stuff ’em in, I know it won’t.”

“ But they won’t go in unless I fold them, uncle.”

“Well, well then, hurry up, that’s all,” said the little man when he saw the flushed cheeks and the trembling hands ; for he was a kind-hearted little man and would not willingly give pain.

“ I don’t like to go away, uncle, so in the night, without thanking those who have been kind to me here.”

“ Leave that to me, Georgie. You shall come back and thank them some day.”

“ May I not write a note, uncle, before I go ? ”

“To whom?” demanded the little man, arbitrarily.

“ To Mr. Weyman,” she replied, with a little spice of defiance.

“ If we have time, yes,” said the little man, thoughtfully; “but not until after we reach the depot. But come, come,” he added, “ I know we shall be left.”

The trunk being ready by this time, the little man seized it frantically and

dragged it down the stairs, bumping and thumping all the way to the street, where he placed it on a wheelbarrow brought for the occasion ; then he went back again and found the pretty operator settling her accounts, and bidding farewell to everybody, and leaving kind words for her friends which he thought were as innumerable as the sands of the sea. But the last word did come finally, and the little man seizing his vehicle set out for the depot, followed by the pretty operator.

“ Hurry,” said he, panting with his burden. — “hurry, Georgie, the train’s coming.” Whereupon he so hurried himself that he dropped his cane, and came within an ace of falling over it.

“Give me the cane, uncle,” said his niece, feeling better for a good laugh.

But as they journeyed on they came to the Metropolitan, and up at this dearly beloved structure, which she had never been inside of, she looked so earnestly, that her laughter ended with a sigh. “ The dear, dingy old hotel, containing so much sunshine ” ; and she blessed the old, old building because it sheltered him. ’T is thus that blessings as curses follow each other, shaded howbeit from human ken.

The little man, upon his arrival at the depot, found that it would take all his time to get his trunk, self, and niece aboard the train, which had just arrived. “ No time to be lost in loveletters, Georgie,” he said, taking that young lady’s arm. “ Come, come, my dear ” ; and he hurried her aboard, much against her will. So much, in fact, did he hurry her, that she left behind her pretty little gauntleted gloves, to say nothing of a little crimson-colored shawl. Having seated the prettyoperator, however, he got out again and ran into the depot.

“Where’s the night operator?” he asked of nobody in particular but everybody in general ; and then, as his eyes fell on that gentleman, “ Here, you, sir. Here’s twenty dollars. Take the place of the day hand on account of that for a few days.”

Of course he had no thought about the night operator’s ability to run day and night together, not he. On the contrary, it was with a very peculiar satisfaction that he said, when on the train at last, “Well, Georgie, we’re here all right notwithstanding, ain’t we, my dear ? ”

but Georgie sighed as if they were all wrong. And the iron horse, regardless alike of congratulations and regrets, whistled “ Off breaks ” and went rushing through the night.

About ten o’clock the next morning Davy Dolder, the night operator at Half-Way, sat grinning in his office, while Walter Weyman was walking leisurely that way, still striking at the thistle-heads with his cane.

“ O my eye ! ” said Davy Dolder, rolling about on his high stool, as if he would twist himself off with his convulsive laughter. “ O my eye ! O my eye ! ” and rolling and drawing himself together, and expanding and stretching and stamping and squealing and shouting and holding his sides, Davy Dolder gave evidence of his great and marvellous delight, because Mr. Weyman for many weeks had been an offence to the eye he alluded to.

“ Good morning, Dolder,” said Mr. Weyman to that gentleman’s back, which still revealed the owner’s delight, — “good morning, Dolder. Where ’s Miss Wilton this morning ? ”

“ Don’t know,” answered Davy, with an evident struggle with his feelings.

“ Don’t know ? ” echoed Mr. Weyman, growing pale suddenly.

“ No ! I don’t know,” answered the gentleman appealed to turning around with a jerk and an angry look.

“ What are you doing here, then ? demanded Mr. Weyman, a little excitedly.

“ Tending to business. Which you ’re not,” answered Davy, pointedly.

“ May I ask when you saw Miss Wilton last ? ”

“ I saw her last night at half past eleven, an hour or so after you saw her.”

“ Where did you see her ? ” demanded Mr. Weyman.

“Don’t yer wish yer knew?” inquired Davy, with a sign like that which Knickerbocker records.

Mr. Weyman griped his cane nervously, and commenced walking back and forth to calm himself. But the more he sought to calm himself the more nervous and furious he got; so he just walked back to his rooms at the Metropolitan, and for two hours kept the depot in sight. But no Miss Wilton making her appearance, he took it into his head to go and make inquiry of the landlady at the little brick house over the hill.

“ A strange gentleman fetched her last night, sir,” said the landlady, — “ a strange gentleman, that called her Georgie, and that she called uncle. So that he could n’t have been very strange to her, after all.”

“ Did she say where she was going ? ”

“ No.”

“ Was she coming back ? ”

“ Yes.”

“ Did she leave any word ? ”

“ She wished me to say good by to all her friends, and that she hoped to see them all again. And ever so many other words, too, which I can’t exactly understand. And, now I bethink me as how she did say as how I was to say to Mr. Weyman as how, as how, Mr. Weyman was to come somewhere and see her ; but we were both so full of tears and the what not, that I disremember all about it! ” and the good old woman went to blowing her nose vigorously, and looking very much as if her vision had become suddenly dim.

“ Can you describe this individual she called uncle ?” asked Mr. Weyman.

“Well, he was short and dumpy-like, and good looking, and wore a eyeglass as would n’t fit, somehow.”

“ Gray whiskers at the sides of his face ? ”

“ A little, sir, I should say.”

“ A gold-headed cane ?”

“ Yes, sir.”

“ Shoes ? White stockings ? ”

“ Yes.”

“ Was lie nervous ? always uneasy, always in motion ? ”

“Yes, sir. And he bothered the poor dear girl so with his notions and what not, that — ”

“Old Sniffins, by Jove!” said Mr. Weyman, striking the air with his clinched fist emphatically, and he turned without another word, not so much as saying good morning or once looking back at the old house which he had blessed so reverently the night before.

That day he settled his bills with the landlord of the Metropolitan, and repaired to the depot with bag and baggage. Here he found Davy Dolder still in possession of the wires, much to his disgust. Nevertheless, that excitable individual sent a message announcing Mr. Weyman’s intention of quitting Half-Way that very day. But while Mr. Dolder was performing the task of sending this despatch, Mr. Weymart’s eyes fell upon the little red shawl and gauntleted gloves, and he thought to himself, “ I will take these at all events.” With the intent of carrying out this thought, he reached over the office counter and had just got them firmly within his grasp, when Mr. Dolder, having just completed the sending of the despatch, caught a sight of Mr. Weyman’s arm, and seized it with a kind of demoniac yell. Having made sure of his hold, he next began to shout, “ Stop thief! stop thief! ” at the top of his voice.

Mr. Weyman, being taken at a disadvantage, could not release himself; and the more he struggled so to do the louder Mr. Dolder roared, “ Stop thief!” Very lucky was it for Mr. Weyman that Half-Way was not abroad, as to have been so discovered would have been unpleasant. But Master Dolder was not to be compromised with. This was an opportunity he had long sought. He was in his glory. His revenge was very sweet. If “ stop thief” would bring no one, he would shout “ murder,” whereupon he roared

“ Murder ! ” incontinently. Then Mr. Weyman remembered the cane he held in his hand, and with it he began to thump the furious Dolder over the head. But the more he thumped and the harder he thumped, the more and the louder resounded the cries of murder.

“What do you want?” demanded Weyman.

“ Murder ! ” roared Dolder.

“ Let go ! ” said Weyman, fiercely.

“ Murder ! ” was Holder’s only answer.

As he was becoming gradually exhausted, his cries grew feebler, and at length, by a sudden exertion on the part of Mr. Weyman, his hands were wrenched apart, and he fell back upon the floor behind his counter. But the Dolder blood being up, the present representative of that family got upon his feet in a twinkling and rushed headlong after his foe. Unfortunately, however, he met an obstacle half-way and fell back heavily, whereupon Mr. Weyman turned his back and walked away, leaving the unfortunate combatant to get up at his leisure.

But that afternoon, as Walter Weyman was getting aboard the train, he turned and saw Davy at his side.

“ What do you want now ? ” he demanded.

“To shake hands,” answered the boy, gloomily. “ We ’ve been hunting and fishing together, Mr. Weyman.”

Mr. Weyman extended his hand.

“ I wanted to keep something of hers,” said the boy, retaining the hand of Mr. Weyman with a pleading look.

“ Something of whose ? ” inquired Weyman.

“Of hers,” repeated the boy.

But Mr. Weyman shook him off, and the train had soon left Half-Way far behind.

The next day, at twilight, Mr. Weyman sat in the office of his attorney, gloomily going over the adventures of a few weeks.

“And now, Joe,” said he, when he had come to the end of his adventures, “ you have hung those pretty crutches upon your wall for some purpose of your own. Beneath them let me hang these little gloves, and I will come here sometimes to think of their owner, so that we may work while waiting together for the solution of our mutual problem.”

CHAPTER III.

RELATES TO THE PRESIDENT, DIRECTORS, AND STOCKHOLDERS OF THE NEWTOWN AND NEW MARKET RAILWAY COMPANY.

IT was a stormy night in October. The spring with its promise, the summer with its glory, and the autumn with its abundance, were no more. Fast tell the withered leaves before the blasts, and fast the driving rain and hail beat them down, down, down. It was the earth’s great harvest day. What man had refused the earth was garnering, — the dead leaves and the dead stubble, the buried dead and the dead unburied, dust returning to dust, earth reclaiming its own, ah! how relentlessly.

How chilly and damp it was that night ! How clammy ! Ugh ! Every paper one touched seemed mouldy, and everything looked cheerless. The impressions and the influences were all bad. The furious gusts, accompanied by rain and hail, seemed determined to crush the window in as they swept by. The lamps in the street gave but little light in the gloom. Staying in was dismal enough, but going out would have been worse. It was out of the question, too, to think of going out ; umbrellas could not be kept right side in, and the omnibuses and cars were as good as not running, the poor drivers being at fault on two dollars per day. Where, besides, could one go to if he should get out ? Would he be likely to find company anywhere, except at the home fireside ? And would n’t the home people think him a fool, or in love, which is about the same thing they say, for turning out on such a night ? To be sure he might stumble upon some poor artist or some poor devil of an author, or local editor in search of something new, with whom a pleasant hour might be passed ; but that even would be a mere possibility.

Subdued at the thought of such an undertaking, I turned from looking out of my office window and resolved, for one, to stay within doors; and in furtherance of this resolution took off my great-coat and overshoes, built a good fire in the grate, turned down the gas, and, seating myself before the fire, fell into what Tony Weller called a “referee.” From my “referee” I was presently aroused by a heavy tramping up my office stairs. Then came the scraping of feet upon the mat without the door, and then in walked Mr. Walter Weyman, shaking himself like a wet Newfoundland dog, and looking more like one than he was ever known to look before.

“ What in the name of common sense brings you out to-night, Weyman ? ” I suggested, when he had taken his seat and had grown somewhat calmer.

“ A little consultation on the old matter, Joe,” he answered, drawing his chair nearer the fire and blowing his nose. “ You know, Joe,” he went on, “ that an act passed the Legislature last winter, incorporating the Newtown and New Market Railway Company ? ”

“ Yes.”

“ Well, sir, they have just organized, and whom do you think they have made president ? ”

“ Judging from your manner, I should say old Sniffins, of course.”

“ Of course. You heard of it before. I could n’t prevent it. He’s a heavy stockholder, you know, and owns the Bolton estate, through which they design to run. Of course he’s the president. Of course.”

“ Well ? ”

“Well, he’s outwinded me again. He’s an old sneak, Joe.”

“ Did you come to tell me that, Weyman ? ” I inquired.

“ No. I came to make a proposition. I 've a notion to have it out with him.

I’ve a notion to see him face to face. And, as for the company, I shall get rid of every cent of my stock before he shall control a penny of it.”

“Weyman,” I answered, “don’t be hasty. At a great bargain pause awhile. You ’re just a little too sensitive. I know the old cove cut you out of the Bolton estate, and ran away with your sweetheart, and disappointed you in allowing himself to be made president of the Newtown and New Market Railroad Company ; but these things would n’t save you from getting angry with the old gentleman. Wait, Mr. Weyman, I still have faith in the little crutches.”

Mr. Weyman got up and tramped back and forth nervously.

“ He’s a meddlesome old scoundrel. I hate his very virtues.”

“ Sit down, Mr. Weyman. "You have just cause of complaint, but you have no reason to work yourself into a passion.”

“ Work myself into a passion ! ” he exclaimed. “ Hain’t I been in a passion for months ? Joe, you don’t sympathize with me. You don’t know me.”

“ But what do you propose to do about it ? ” I inquired.

“ I propose to demand an explanation. I shall not be bamboozled any longer.”

“Bosh! Mr. Weyman. You’ll do no such thing. I’m better acquainted with Mr. Sniffins than you are. He would n’t hurt a fly.”

“You may call it what you please, but it is n’t bosh to me, and I’m determined. Why, look here, Joe, here’s a letter from that pig-headed ninny at the station, and he has sense enough to see that Miss Wilton’s uncle is an old tyrant she don’t dare to cross. A veritable old hypocrite. ' You must n’t ask me where I live, Davy. I’ve promised, and it would n’t do to tell.’ That’s what she says to him when she came back to the station. Who is it she’s promised, and why don’t she dare to tell ? ‘ I asked her,’ he goes on, ‘ if the young gentleman that was a visiting of her in the summer had anything to do with her daring not to tell, and she said, ‘ Don’t ask any more questions. Davy.’ Now this old hypocrite is setting her up to all this. Not that I care about her, Joe, but I do hate to be led by the nose.”

“ I don’t see any danger of that, Weyman,” said I, carelessly.

“ And you don’t care, I sometimes think.”

“ O yes, I do, Mr. Weyman.”

“ Tell me what I shall do then, and debit me for it.”

“ As a lawyer, Mr. Weyman,” I answered, “ I can give no advice regarding matters of the heart; but as a practical man, as I trust I am, I would advise you to imitate poor Micawber a little. In a word, I would advise you to sit down and wait patiently for something to turn up. This affair will see the light some day, in spite of Mr. Sniffins and all the Bastiles ever dreamt of.”

So Mr. Weyman sat down moodily, and looked at the red fire in the grate despondingly; and then we both sat looking and thinking while the shadows deepened on the wall, exactly as it we were really waiting for something to turn up at any moment. But we were both immensely surprised when something did turn up. It was a light step upon the stair, a scraping of shoes upon the mat, a gentle tap at the door, and Mr. Sniffins himself standing there before us with raised umbrella. His pants were rolled up at the ankle, and his shoes and stockings bespattered with mud. About his throat he had tied a white handkerchief to keep the cold out, while in his hand he still held the gold-headed cane which was his inseparable companion in storm and shine.

“ May I come in ? ” he inquired, somewhat deprecatingly, before I had recovered from my astonishment sufficiently to salute him.

“ Certainly, sir,” I replied, at length. “ Walk in, sir, and be seated ” ; and I got up politely, handing a chair by the fire-

Having lowered his umbrella and removed the handkerchief from his throat, the old gentleman came in and sat down with a jerk. Whereupon Mr. Weyman turned his back upon him. Drawing nearer the fire, he stretched out his hands to warm them ; and when they were thoroughly warmed, he proceeded to rub his knees in a most energetic manner.

“ You ’re a great stranger,”feeling that I must say something at all hazards.

“ I have been much engaged,” he answered, “ and, to tell the truth, have had little encouragement for familiarity. But that’s neither here nor there, sir. I’ve called on an errand.”

“Ah ! ” said I, no doubt in a tone of relief.

“ I thought I should find you alone,” nodding toward Mr. Weyman, whereupon that gentleman arose.

“ O, it’s Mr. Weyman, is it ? ” continued the little man ; “pray don’t let me disturb you, sir, pray don’t.”

“ No disturbance whatever,” said Mr. Weyman, surlily. “ I esteem it a privilege to be permitted to be where you are not.”

“ Ah, just as you like, Mr. Weyman. Just as you like, sir.” And the little man rubbed his knees with great rapidity.

“ It has generally been just as you like, I should say, if I may be allowed an opinion,” retorted Mr. Weyman.

“ Ah ! not always, sir. But I beg of you to be seated, Mr. Weyman. My business with Mr. Joe here is applicable to you as well.”

“ I prefer to stand, Mr. Sniffins, until you have satisfactorily explained certain matters which have been of a deep interest to me, and until you have done so I shall hold no intercourse with you.”

” Yery good, Mr. Weyman, you will please proceed with the specifications.”

“ You know to what I refer. You have cheated me out of property. You have stolen from me what is better than property. You have maligned me to gain a position of honor and trust for yourself. You — ”

“Weyman, you’re a great fool,” broke in the little man ; and I must confess I duly echoed the sentiment “ Will you explain away these charges ? ” he demanded.

“ No, I cannot now. '

Weyman would have answered fiercely, but the melancholy tone of the usually brisk old gentleman made him pause, after which he soon became his calmer and better self.

So for a moment or two we sat still, looking at my old friend, whose eyes were on the floor, while his hands rubbed his knees more slowly; and as we looked, a tear gathered on his eyelashes, and fell thence upon my office floor. We both saw it, and I dare say both felt guilty. I know I did, because I sought to smother my guilty feeling with a cigar. Weyman took one too, and began to smoke furiously.

“ Mr. Joe,” said Mr. Sniffins at length, “and you, Mr. Weyman, are both invited to attend the meeting of the directors and stockholders of the Newtown and New Market Railway Company, to be held at my house Wednesday evening next, at nine precisely. Mr. Joe, we shall make you our attorney; and, Mr. Weyman, you must be present to cast your votes for your friend. This is what I came out in this storm to see you about. Will you accept ? ”

Of course I would accept, with more thanks than I could express. Really, so thankful was I that I forgot all about the pretty crutches, so that when the kind old gentleman presently departed, I shook his hand with gratitude and delight. Mr. Weyman, too, vouchsafed to extend the tips of his fingers, and promised attendance upon the meeting for my sake, if not for any other reason.

After he had departed, however, we sat stock still for several minutes, I dare say dumfoundered.

“Joe!” Mr. Weyman was the first to break the silence, “ Joe ! can you give me the composition of that man ?”

“Really, Weyman, I cannot.”

“Is he a hypocrite, a saint, or a devil?”

“ I think he is neither, Mr. Weyman. I believe we shall both know more of him some day; and the more we know of him the better we shall like him.”

Weyman sighed heavily, and presently left me alone without another word, so wrapped up was he in his own peculiar thoughts. Before he went out, however, he looked up at the little gloves on the wall. Of course I cannot vouch for his dreams that night ; as for myself, I dreamt all night of railroads and presidents and directors and stockholders and fat clients and still fatter fees, until the morning dawned clear and cold. But for all my dreaming, the evening for the meeting at Mr. Sniffins’s residence came, and Weyman calling around at my office, we walked together up town.

“What a place to call a meeting ! ” said Weyman, in a tone of disgust.

“ Way up town at a private residence. Just like him, though.” And upon this remark he seemed to be biting until we stood upon Mr. Sniffins’s front stoop, ringing the bell.

After getting so far, however, we were surprised to hear the confused jabbering of not only masculine but feminine voices, a veritable intermingling, as it seemed, of a great host. We should have made a hasty retreat, I imagine, had not the door at that moment been opened, not by a servant, but by Mr. Sniffins himself, fashionably dressed in a suit of black, his cheeks rosier, his eye-glass more troublesome, and his stockings, I doubt not, whiter than ever. Before we could offer excuses he had pulled us inside and slammed the door.

“ Here, Tom,” said he, “ show these gentlemen up. Quick ! boy, quick ! Up stairs, gentlemen, Tom will show you.” And Mr. Sniffins disappeared before we had time to slip a word in edgewise.

Tom, who was a colored boy wearing a white stand-up collar and a blue jacket with brass buttons, forthwith conducted us to a dressing-room on the second floor; which feat having been accomplished, he stood looking at us from crown to heel in a very comprehensive manner.

“Anything wanted, gemmen ? ” lie inquired at length.

Weyman having shaken his head, the questioner departed. We were not prepared for such a gathering ; but, nevertheless, I induced Mr. Weyman, after a great effort, to descend to the reception-room, where we were presented to Mrs. Sniffins with due formality. Mrs. Sniffins was a tall, bonylooking lady of fifty or sixty, who had a very shrill voice, which voice introduced us to ladies and gentlemen generally, to our great annoyance ; for these ladies and gentlemen, being all in full dress, looked wonderingly at our plain business suits. Mr. Weyman, however, tried and perhaps did set the matter right by roaring his excuses at Mrs. Sniffins, as if that lady had been nearly as deaf as an adder, for the purpose, as he afterwards explained, of making not only Mrs. Sniffins but everybody else hear.

“Just like him. Just exactly like him,” said she, when the excuses had been rendered.

But for all its being just like him, Mr. Weyman and myself felt better when we got together in a corner, where for a little while we ceased to attract attention. Mr. Sniffins, when he found us there, however, would not let us rest. He brought all the ladies and all the gentlemen to us, as if we were especial guests, and he was determined to keep us busy. I tried hard to be sociable with the directors and stockholders, but it was no go. As for Weyman he was sociable with no one, so we drove them all away again, and took courage. But we had scarcely reached this comfortable stage, when up came Tom, saying, “ Mr. Snuffin wants you two gemmen in de libry.”

“ Botheration ! ” ejaculated Weyman, “ I ’ll stay here.”

“ O no, Mr. Weyman, the question may be put to vote at this very meeting, after all, and I may need your assistance.”

So he got up reluctantly, and we followed the African.

“In here, gemmen,” said he, “sixpence a sight now.”

He opened the “libry ” door, and we walked in, I dare say looking very much like the stupid people who think they see the world for that amount of money in a raree-show.

“ My nieces, gentlemen,” said Mr. Sniffins.

“Georgie,” “Walter,” “Julie,” and “'Joe” were names that somehow or another in the great hurry and rush got wonderfully mixed up with the rustling of silks and the shaking of hands, and I thought Mr. Weyman stooped to kiss somebody; but that’s immaterial and irrelevant.

I do believe, however, that I never saw a poor fellow so taken aback as Weyman was. He looked like, — well, I don’t know what he did look like, unless it was like his old, old self again, which he hadn’t been ever since he came back from Half-Way. He was looking down at Georgie and smiling, with his eyes full of tears, and “ old Sniffins ” and “Julie” and I stood looking at him there, and he did n’t know anything about it. But I had my own surprise, too ; and when I turned about and saw the lovely and graceful girl beside me, and when she turned about too, and looked straight at me with her deep blue eyes so full of delight, I thought of the crutches and forgot all about the directors and stockholders. Then Mr. Sniffins, standing by his centre-table, and smiling, and looking the happiest of men, made a little speech alter this fashion : —

“ Mr. Joe, and you, Mr. Weyman, will listen to the explanation I have tried hard not to make before now. It has cost me much pain to lose your friendship, but I knew it would some time come back again, and that has been my consolation. It has been painful to bear without anger charges of dishonesty and fraud, but, conscious of my innocence, I have controlled myself. Marvel not, then, that upon this night which I have chosen wherein to right the wrong I should have prepared a feast and called together my friends. You think I fraudulently acquired the Bolton estate, or fraudulently deprived you of acquiring it. I admit it. But, gentlemen, these orphan nieces of mine, beloved and respected, if I do say it to their faces, were the cause. They, too, were the real owners of that estate, at the time of the sale of which, under mortgage, Mr. Weyman and myself were the only persons likely to appreciate its value. If I could keep Mr. Weyman away, I knew I could save it for my nieces, and otherwise not. Mr. Weyman was rich. They were poor. My interest became very great, and by myself I planned the device which Julie, bless her heart, carried out so admirably. It was mean, I admit; but this property had made them poor, and I was determined it should make them rich. One should no longer be a telegraph-operator, notwithstanding it was an honorable and suitable labor, and the other should no longer copy papers for a lawyer. And so this property has made them rich, richer, Mr. Weyman, than either you or myself. As for you, Mr. Joe, you left your travelling companion that night snugly cared for at her sister’s boarding-house ; but the girls will tell you all about the particulars. I thought myself justified then, and I think so now. I may have carried the affair too far since, but I had my own plans to perfect and my own object to gratify. For a portion of the time you must thank yourselves. When you would not speak to me, I could not speak to you. As for you, Mr. Weyman, I sought the office I now hold, that I might the better insure the value of the property I held in trust. I am now ready to resign it. And as for you, Mr. Joe, you are already elected to the attorneyship I mentioned. That was merely a dodge to get you here. And now, Mr. Weyman, and you, Mr. Joe, give me your hands if I am found blameless, for my dear girls will tell you all the rest.”

Who could resist such disinterestedness ? Mr. Weyman could not, more than myself. Wherefore we both seized the proffered hand with avidity; and, had it been a lady’s hand, I think poor Weyman, in the exuberance of his joy, would have covered it with kisses. But after a little private conversation with the pretty operator, as we will still call her, that gentleman approached the revered uncle, and with a trembling voice took us all aback after this fashion : —

“ I have wronged you, sir, in act and in thought many, many times, but my love for your niece has been a great motive. For this reason I hope to meet your favor. I have long known and freely associated with — with — with her. And, sir, we love one another so well, that I beg I may be permitted to make amends for my misdeeds in a nearer relationship.”

“ Georgie ! ” exclaimed the old gentleman, looking at that blushing young lady with astonishment depicted on his face.

“Yes, uncle,” she answered, in the gentlest and sweetest of voices, which the old gentleman seemed to understand by a kind of instinct, and proceeded at once to give the desired consent. But, strangest of all strange things, everybody’s eyes were full of tears, some even to the running over.

“ Missus says you ’se wanted in de parlor, Mr. Snuffin,” was the greeting of Tom, which broke the spell.

“ I fear my guests have missed me, ’ said Mr. Sniffins, blowing his nose. After which he wiped his spectacles and disappeared.

It was a painful duty that brought us to mingle that night with the directors and stockholders, but, nevertheless, it was a duty we performed quite to our own satisfaction. And if Mr. Sniffins’s nieces were the belles on that occasion, I think it is proper to say that Weyman and myself were, at least, the happiest-looking single gentlemen.

Quite late in the evening my attention was called to the appearance of a singular-looking individual I had somewhere seen before, dogging the steps of Mr. Weyman with a kind of desperation which was heightened by Weyman’s persistent manner of keeping just out of his reach. So I called to Mr. Weyman to look about.

“ Why, that is Davy Dolder,” said he, shaking that individual by the hand. “ How do you do, Davy ? ”

“ Fust-rate, sir.”

“ Can I do anything for you ? ” asked Weyman, feeling charitable toward all men.

“ Perhaps,” said the boy. “ You might have got through with the red shawl, sir.”

“ Whose red shawl, Davy ? ”

“ Hers ! ” he answered, throwing his head over his shoulder.

“ I will ask her, Davy ; and if she says you may have it, you shall.”

“ No, no, sir, please don’t. Don’t ask her. Don’t.”

“ Well, well, Davy, you shall have the red shawl if I can find it,” said Weyman ; and he swept away among the directors and stockholders, some inches taller than in the morning.

Davy had come down, at Georgie’s request, to share in the general good feeling ; and from what I saw of him afterwards, I thought he had availed himself of more than his share, as did some others that I wot of.

And now, as it would be unsatisfactory to close this narrative without the usual last words, I am induced to part with very private information. It was about Christmas that I was sitting with Julie Wilton in that identical library of Mr. Sniffin’s, when she handed me a paper whereon I had long before written a promise that I would never be angry with “ Miss Julie,” however great a burden she might become to me or however great an injury she might do me, and much more beside.

“ You did get angry with me, after all, did n’t you, Joe ? '

“ No, Julie, I think I was never angry with you. But I can’t say that I might not have been just a little, but for this little note.” And I handed her the little slip on which she had written : —

“ Mr. Joe must journey from hence alone. That he may live to forgive a great injury is the wish of his sincere but very unfortunate friend,

“JULIE.”

“ Have you lived to forgive me, Joe ? ”

“ Yes, yes, dear Julie, long, long ago I forgave you, and long, long ago I loved you. Say then, dear Julie, that henceforth I shall not journey alone.”

“Yes, I do, dear Joe. And Julie is no more unfortunate.”

“Ah. Julie!” said I then, for the first time touching the rosy lips, “in that day I little thought you were to prove so great a blessing.”

We have been married three, yes, three long years, and little Joe is the sweetest little fellow on the face of the earth. If he lives, as I trust and pray he may, he will inherit one half of the Bolton estate, or, what is better, one halt of the avails thereof invested in government securities, to say nothing of the pretty crutches, and for all this good fortune he will be taught to reverence the name of his dear greatuncle.

George Barrow.