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Updated: August 9, 2024
We can't be sure of getting a train out of the yards without accident. Dixon is as careful a man as ever stepped on an engine, and he smashed a farmer's wagon and killed the farmer this morning within two train-lengths of the shop junction." "Drunk?" inquired the ex-manager. "Never a drop; Dixon's a Prohibitionist, dyed in the wool.
"Say," he said, suddenly; "where is Hurstwood now?" Carrie flushed a little. "He's here in New York, I guess," she said. "I haven't seen him for some time." Drouet mused for a moment. He had not been sure until now that the ex-manager was not an influential figure in the background. He imagined not; but this assurance relieved him.
"There's no use of my starting out mornings without first thinking up some place to go. I'll think of some places and then look them up." It occurred to him that the positions of bartenders were sometimes open, but he put this out of his mind. Bartender he, the ex-manager! It grew awfully dull sitting in the hotel lobby, and so at four he went home.
Give one degree time to act before you start another. The one fault of most men is that they always want to throw her wide open. That's bad. It's dangerous, too. Wears out the motor. You don't want to do that." "I see," said Hurstwood. He waited and waited, while the man talked on. "Now you take it," he said, finally. The ex-manager laid hand to the lever and pushed it gently, as he thought.
Slowly the line moved up and, one by one, passed in, until twenty-five were counted. Then she interposed a stout arm, and the line halted, with six men on the steps. Of these the ex-manager was one. Waiting thus, some talked, some ejaculated concerning the misery of it; some brooded, as did Hurstwood.
After detailing to the lawyer the information I had gained, we decided to proceed to a Justice of the Peace and get out a search warrant for the goods and a State warrant for the arrest of the ex-manager. My legal adviser explained to me that the searching of a person's residence without finding what we were after, might result seriously, as the owner could enter suit against me for damages.
On this occasion, the ex-manager ate his as he went plodding the dark streets in silence to his bed. By January he had about concluded that the game was up with him. Life had always seemed a precious thing, but now constant want and weakened vitality had made the charms of earth rather dull and inconspicuous.
On my arrival home I wrote to the Salina, Kansas, man, telling him that I had a lot of goods in my possession turned over to me by his ex-manager; and unless he came on to Chicago within five days, and gave me a bill of sale for them, I would have him brought back by officers. He came, and did as I requested.
The door closed softly behind the retreating figure of the attorney-general, and Kent released the spring of the night-latch. Then he went to the dropped portière at the farther end of the room, drew it aside and looked in on a man who was writing at a table pushed out between the windows. "You heard him, Loring?" he asked. The ex-manager nodded. "They are hard pressed," he said.
Barnum was confident that he had never seen him before, and indeed did not really know who he was. But, quick as a flash, he thought that the ex-manager of Drury Lane must be the only living Englishman with presumption enough to accost him in this way. So he answered without hesitation, "Why, this is Mr. Bunn, isn't it?"
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