I surveyed the pair with some
interest.
"I suppose there is pretty good fishing around here," ventured the
elder.
He evidently took me for an inhabitant. Remembering my faded blue shirt
and my floppy old hat and the red handkerchief about my neck and the
moccasins on my feet, I did not blame him.
"I suppose there are bass among the islands," I replied.
We fell into conversation. I learned that he and his son were from New
York.
He learned, by a final direct question which was most significant of
his not belonging to the country, who I was. By chance he knew my name.
He opened his heart.
"We came down on the _City of Flint_," said he. "My son and I are
on a vacation. We have been as far as the Yellowstone, and thought we
would like to see some of this country. I was assured that on this date
I could make connection with the _North Star_ for the south. I
told the purser of the _Flint_ not to wake us up unless the
_North Star_ was here at the docks. He bundled us off here at
three in the morning. The _North Star_ was not here; it is an
outrage!"
He uttered various threats.
"I thought the _North Star_ was running away south around the
Perry Sound region," I suggested.
"Yes, but she was to begin to-day, June 16, to make this connection."
He produced a railroad folder. "It's in this," he continued.
"Did you go by that thing?" I marvelled.
"Why, of course," said he.
"I forgot you were an American," said I.
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