An exceedingly bright and vivacious love-story, set upon the railroad, and marked by a thorough grasp of all the intricacies involved in the life of a railroad man.
assenger agent's forte was placability. "Don't worry about your ticket, Mr. Jordan," he said. "We'll take good care of you, and if you should happen to be more than thirty days in reaching Los Angeles----"
"Thirty days!" gasped the objector. "Great ah--heavens, sir, you told us you could put us there in ah--four days and a half!"
"So I did, and so we shall, barring the stop-overs the party may wish to make; but in that case I don't see why you should require a sixty-day limit," said Brockway, with an affable smile.
By this time quite a little group had gathered around them, and anxious queries began to beat thick and fast upon Brockway's ears.
"What's that about our tickets?"
"Thirty days, did you say?"
"Can't have stop-overs?"
Brockway got upon his feet. "One moment, if you please," he protested. "There is nothing wrong--nothing different. Mr. Jordan and I were merely discussing the question of an extra limit on his own ticket; that was all."
"Oh."
