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Updated: May 2, 2025
Bidding a reluctant good-by to up-state romance, Mr. Magee entered the solitary day coach which, with a smoker, made up the local to Reuton. He spent a few moments adjusting Mrs. Norton to her new environment, and listened to her voluble expressions of joy in the fact that her boarding-house loomed ahead. Then he started for the smoker.
He melted into the crowd, an odd figure still, his garb in a fashion long forgotten, his clumsily hacked hair brushing the collar of his ancient coat. Magee and the girl found the check room, and after he had been relieved of the burden of his baggage, set out up the main street of Reuton. It was a typical up-state town, deep in the throes of the holiday season.
"Hooperstown," he read, "Reuton 10 miles." He saw Mr. Max get up and leave the car. "Not a thing to it, Doc," Cargan repeated, "Your bunch has tried to get me before. You've shouted from the housetops that you had the goods on me. What's always happened?" "Your own creatures have acquitted you," replied the professor, from a cloud of Cargan cigar smoke.
I had sort of an idea, when I was doing it an idea of service to the world you know. God, what a joke! I sold all the Quimby lands, and went to Reuton, and then to New York, to place it. Not one of the railroad men but admitted that it was an improvement, and a big one and not one but fought like mad to keep me from getting it down where the public would see it.
I had taken up a task too big for me by far taken it up bravely when I was out in the sunlight of Reuton. But when I saw Upper Asquewan Falls, and the dark came, and that dingy station swallowed me up, something gave way inside me and I felt I was going to fail. So I cried. A woman's way." "If I were only permitted to help " Mr. Magee pleaded. "No I must go forward alone. I can trust no one, now.
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