Prev | Current Page 287 | Next

Adams, Samuel Hopkins, 1871-1958

"Success A Novel"


"Station-agent!" The girl was taken aback, for this was not at all in
consonance with the Io myth as it had drifted back, from sources never
determined, to New York. "Were you the station-agent?"
"I was."
She bestowed a glance at once appraising and flattering, less upon
himself than upon his apparel. "And what are you now? President of the
road?"
"A reporter on The Ledger."
"Really!" This seemed to astonish her even more than the previous
information. "What are you reporting here?"
"I'm off duty to-night."
"I see. Could you get off duty some afternoon and come to tea, if I'll
promise to have Io there to meet you?"
"Your party seems to be making signals of distress, Miss Forbes."
"That's the normal attitude of my friends and family toward me. You'll
come, won't you, Mr. Banneker?"
"Thank you: but reporting keeps one rather too busy for amusement."
"You won't come," she murmured, aggrieved. "Then it _is_ true about you
and Io."
This time she achieved a result. Banneker flushed angrily, though he
said, coolly enough: "I think perhaps you would make an enterprising
reporter, yourself, Miss Forbes."
"I'm sure I should. Well, I'll apologize. And if you won't come for
Io--she's still abroad, by the way and won't be back for a
month--perhaps you'll come for me.


Pages:
275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299