Short Story Classics (American) Vol. 2

again left his room, resolved to make a call upon Mr. Littimer,

door which he had once seen standing open, and knocked. A voice which he now heard for the second time in his life, but which was so sweet and

?" It seemed to bring him a little

d very much surprised. "Oh," she exclaimed, with girlish simplici

etter call later." Crombie made a

him on business? Wh

ase. It's nothing

t her own deception, "haven't I seen you

d thought him, both on that occasion and every time she had seen him. But as for

and can easily

t any moment," she said.

such a very small matter," he began, examining his hat attentively. Then he

ouble." She began to look anxious, and turned her eyes upon the smouldering fire in the grate. So this was to be the end of her pl

agerly. "Just a little mistake that occurred;

amusing interpretation. "Ah!" she cried, "are

ung creature so commonplace and vulgar a subject as shoe-leather! Ignoring her unfinished question, he asked: "Do you k

oke in, her eyes dancing, whi

that's wh

nner," Blanche returned. "T

Crombie owned, an

hair; and this time Crombie took a seat without waiting to be

an engagement; and it is so unusual! Perhaps it's something about the new house he's building-up-town, you know. De

quarters; but he drew comfort from what she said, thinking how such sentiments might ma

replied. "Just think of having a plac

escaped her. She was reflecting, perhaps, tha

r met my fathe

have se

u will like him w

ed with fervor, worshiping the very

y become bett

rombie, he will owe

hy

your shoes

the young man, in

know they came to hi

o the knowledge of the banker. Really, his mortification was so great that the accident see

t all! I'm sorry I mentioned the matter. Pray tell Mr. Littimer

threshold; the figure of a short man with a spare face, and whiskers in which gray mingled with the sandy tint. He had a pinched, half

this moment!"

and, in a few words, the reason of his prese

out, in a tone bordering on reproach: "So you are the owner, are you? Then my sympathy has all been wasted! Why, I supposed, from the condition of these machines that I've been lugging around

ettled, but speaking with respect. "I confess

demanded, with half-yielding pugnaci

" said Ban

rrendered at once by adding: "You may be sure I don't want to offend any one. Sit down, Mr. Crombie, and wait just a f

he errant shoes. When they came back Littimer insisted upon having the young man remain a little longer and drink a glass of port with him. Befo

leave you with a false impression. The truth is, I am not doing well. I hav

aritable impulses came to the fore. "Why, now y

ous to interest people in that way, I t

anker. "I meant what I said. Come, let's see w

said Crombie,

and was disappointed with the young man's want of helplessn

over. Come and see me at the ban

night before had been followed by reaction into a bad cold, with some threat of pneumonia. Blanche was plainly anxious. The attack lasted three or four days, and Crombie, though the affair of the directorship was pressing for attention, could not forbear to remain as near as possible to Blanche, offering every aid within his power, so far as he might without overstepping t

rombie showed him just what combinations could be formed, how success could be achieved, and what lucrative results might be made to ensue. He conquered by figures and by lucid common-sense. Littimer agreed to buy a number of shares in the Engra

n love with Blanche before I knew her, and if this ventu

aid Littimer, severely. "Senti

arrange a compromise; but by this time Crombie had determined to oust Blatchford himself and e

ucce

is interest in aiding disabled or unfortunate people who could really be aided. Some time after Crombie had achieved his triumph in the Engraving Company, and had repaid Littim

on, Crombie said to Blanche: "Oughtn't we to have an

erness in which there was a bright, delicious sparkle of hum

h I don't want anybody to laugh at my two friends, I must risk saying that I suspec

NVER E

---

. A.

il" is a descriptive book yielding the information of fact concerning the pioneer period of settlement in that region; and "The Denver Express" is a stirring piece of fiction vividly reproducing the spirit of those days when the forces of social order introduced by the railroad we

NVER E

. A.

"Belgravia" fo

heard the "shanty-songs" sung by the sailors as they toiled at capstan a

to see its

hat rolli

ee its mud

he wild M

m the far Northwest, totters, reels, runs its tortuous course for hundreds on hundreds of miles; and which, encountering the lordly and thus far well-behaved Mississippi at Alt

somewhat shabby building serving as terminal station. In its smoky interior, late in the evening and not very long ago, a train was nearly ready to start. It was a train possessing a certain consideration. For the benefit of a public easily gulled and enamored of grandiloquent terms, it was advertised as the "Denver Fast Express"; sometimes, with

tepped into

ame thund

he snortin

than eag

heels, the wh

d the smo

ills, the va

ng fores

rases. They called it simply "Number Seventeen";

e social condition of the occupants seemed to be in inverse ratio to their distance from the engine. First came emigrants, "honest miners," "cowboys," and laborers; Irishmen, Germans, Welshmen, Mennonites from Russia, quaint of garb and

gs sinking all differences of race, creed, and habits in the common purpose to mo

ed way as it cleared the outskirts of the town, rounded a curve, entered on an absolutely straight line, and, with one long whistle from the engine, settled down to its work. Through the night hours it sped on, past lonely ranches and infrequent

e of companionship and semi-security. Far different is it when the long train is running over those two rails which, seen before night set in, seem to meet on the horizon. Within all is as if between two great seaboard cities; the neatly dressed people, the uniformed officials, the handsome fittings, the various appliances for comfort. Without are now long dreary levels, now deep and wild canyon

he platform, a little more thoughtful than his wont, and looked eastward for the smoke of the train. With but three of the passengers in that train has this tale especially to do, and they were all in the new and comfortable Pullman "City of Cheyenne." One was a tall, well-made man of about thirty-blond, blue- eyed, bearded, straight, sinewy, alert. Of all in the train he seemed the most thoroughly at home, and the respectful greeting of the conductor, as he passed through the car, marked him as an officer of the road. Such was he-Henry Sinclair, assistant engineer, quite famed on the line, high in favor with the directors, and a rising man in all ways. It was known on the road that h

fe of their curious meeting. Entering the toilet-room at the rear of the car, he said, he had begun his ablut

you? Just to think

ck eyes, keen and bright, swarthy complexion, black hair and mustache. A keen observer might have seen about him some si

ember Foster?"

a moment I could not place you. Where hav

a new leaf. I'm a respectable member of society, have a place

d you must tell me your story

, when the speed of the train slackened, and the brakeman o

twenty minutes f