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It's not there now." "That's nothing," said Quincy. "You know how people come into a second-hand store, see a book they take a fancy to but don't feel like buying just then, and tuck it away out of sight or on some other shelf where they think no one else will spot it, but they'll be able to find it when they can afford it. Probably someone's done that with your Cromwell."
He related a small scandal that was stirring the social pond of Quincy, and at last he swung nearer to the four who had taken mining claims along Toll Gate Creek. "Too bad you can't go down to Toll-house an' git acquainted with your neighbors," he drawled half maliciously. "There's a girl in the bunch that's sure easy to look at.
It was not a woman's tap, yet Terpy and Phrony Tripper both sprang into Keith's mind. Almost at the same moment the door opened slowly, and pausing on the threshold stood J. Quincy Plume. But how changed from the Mr. Plume of yore, the jovial and jocund manager of the Gumbolt Whistle, or the florid and flowery editor of the New Leeds Clarion!
On the same evening memorial services were held in Faneuil Hall, Boston, at which the mayor of the city presided, and addresses were made by Josiah Quincy, Professor E.N. Horsford, the Honorable Richard H. Dana, and others.
He dropped back on Quincy like a lump of lead; he rebounded like a football, tossed into space by an unknown energy which played with all his generation as a cat plays with mice. The simile is none too strong. Not one man in America wanted the Civil War, or expected or intended it. A small minority wanted secession. The vast majority wanted to go on with their occupations in peace.
Such were Richard Bellingham, Edmund Quincy, Thomas Leverett, John Cotton, Samuel Whiting, and others, known to our colonial and national history. Not even Bradford or Brewster, afterward dignified figures in Plymouth colony, were of the humble band, men, women, and children, that the officers of Boston took from their vessel.
In 1854-5 they took a contract to grade a part of the Chicago, Burlington, and Quincy Railroad line, and to build some bridges; and as they were able to put a considerable body of their young men upon this work, it brought them in a good deal of money. They now began to erect brick dwellings, a town-hall, and a large hotel, where they for a while did a good business.
"That's good. Which side does the main topgallant halyards lead down?" "Port side. Fore and mizzen to starboard." "This man's a sailor, all right. And he's not goin' out o' my place under any man's gun, 'less he's a policeman with a warrant." "Well, we'll get the policeman with a warrant," said Quincy, "unless this will do."
He had been in the employ of the Burlington for a quarter of a century ever since he was fifteen years old but being one of the strikers he was now out of employment. "You are charged," said the clerk, "with trespassing upon the property of the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroad Company, inciting a riot, attempting to blow up a locomotive and threatening the life of the engineer.
He looked around him gloatingly and climbed into the little make-believe train, and smiled as he settled back in a seat. There was not another soul going to Quincy that morning, save the conductor and engineer. The conductor looked at his passenger as boredly as the wife of a professional humorist looks at her husband, took his ticket and left him.
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