him from the open door of the caboose as he rapidly walked down a suburban street, I was positive his gait was anything but steady--that the step--the figure--the whole air of the man was that of one then laboring under the effects of partial intoxication.
I have always liked peculiar people; no matter where I met them, no matter who they were; if once impressed with an eccentricity of character which I have reason to believe purely unaffected, I never quite forget the person, name or place of our first meeting, or where the interesting party may be found again. And so it was in the customary order of things that, during hasty visits to the city, I often called on the eccentric Mr. Clark, and, as he had promised on our first acquaintance, he seemed always glad to see and welcome me in his new office. The more I knew of him the more I liked him, but I think I never fully understood him. No one seemed to know him quite so well as that.
Once I had a little private talk regarding him with the senior part