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The day book. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, October 18, 1913, NOON EDITION, Image 19

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1913-10-18/ed-1/seq-19/

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premature melting of snow in the
fastnesses of the Sierras?"
This phrase did not shock Saterlee.
He was amazed at the power of
memory which it proved. For three
hours earlier he had read a close
paraphrase of it in a copy of the
Tomb Oity Picayune which he had
bought at that city.
The train ran slower and slower.
"Do you think we shall ever get
anywhere?" queried the lady.
''Not when we expect to, ma'am,"
said Saterlee.
The train gave a jolt. And then,
very quietly, the dining-car rolled
over on its side down the embank
ment. There was a subdued smash
ing of china and glass. A clergyman
at one of the rear tables quietly re
marked: "Washout,' and Saterlee,
who had not forgotten the days when
he had learned to fall from a Ducking
broncho, relaxed his great muscles
and swore roundly and at great
length. The car came to rest at the
bottom of the embankment, less on
its side than on its top. Pof a mo
mentor so it seemed all was per
fectly quiet. Then Saterlee saw the
showy lady across the aisle descend
ing upon him through the air.
"Thank you," she murmured, as
her impact drove most of the breath
out of Saterlee's bull body. "How
strong you are!"
"When you are rested, ma'am,"
said he, with extreme punctilious
ness, "I think we may leave the car
by bliiriblng over the sides of the
seats on this side."
He preceded her over and over the
sides of the seats, opened the car
door, and helped her to the ground.
And then, his heart of a parent hav
ing awakened to the situation, he for
got her and forsook her. He pulled a
time-table Yrom his pocket, and con
sulted a mile-post. It was forty miles
to Carcasonne and only two to Grub
City a lovely city of the plain.,
"Grub City hire buggy drive to
Carcasonne," he muttered, and- he
moved, forward with great strides. 1
.
"Where you want to git?" askeil
the proprietor of the Great City Catb.
"Carcasonne," said Saterlee. "Not
the junction the resort."
"Well," said the proprietor,
"there's just one horse and just one
trap in Grub City, and they ain't for
hire. We've no use for them," said
the great man. "So they're for sale.'1
Now what do you think they'd be
worth to you?"
"Fifty dollars," he said, as one ac
customed to business.
It was then a panting, female voice
was raised behind him. "Sixty dol
lars!" His showy acquaintance of the dining-car
had followed him along the
ties as fast as she could and was
just come up!
"I thought you two was a trust,"
commented the proprietor's wife,
who stood near. "But it seems you
ain't,even a community of interests."
"Seventy dollars, said Saterlee
quietly.
The lady advenced to his side,
counting the change in her purse.
"Seventy-six dollars and eighty
five cents," she said.
"Eighty dollars," safd Saterlee.
"Oh!' cried the lady, "seventy-six
eighty-five is every cent I've got with
me and you're no gentleman to bl'
higher."
"Eighty," repeated Saterlee.
"Eighty dollars," Said the son-in-law,
"for a horse and buggy that a
man's never seen is too good to be
true."
"They are yours, sir," said the
father-in-law, and he turned to his
daughter's husband. "Is that horse in
ypur cellar or in nHp?" he asked.
"I ain't set eyes on jci since Febru
ary." Saterlee turned quietly to the an- '
gry and tearful vision whom he had
so callously outbid.
"Ma'am," he said, "if we come to
my stop first or thereabouts, the bug
gy is yours to go on with. If we
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