Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-12-17
CHAPTER III.
Across the Aisle.

No solution offering itself, went back
to my berth. The snorer across had ap-
parently strang1ed. or turned over. and
SO after a time I dropped asleep. to be
awakened by the morning sunlight across
my face.
I felt for my watch. yawning prodi-
giously I reached under the pillow and
failed to find It, but something scratched
the back Of my hand. I sat up irritably
and nursed the wound, which was bleed
ing a little. Still drowsy, I felt more
cautiously for what I supposed had been
my scarf pin, but there was nothing
there. Wide awake now, I reached for
my travelling bag. on the chance that I
had put my watch In there. / had
drawn the satchel to me and had my
hand on the lock before realized that
1t was not my own!
Mine was of alligator hide. had killed
the beast in Florida, after the expend-
iture Of enough money to have bought a
house and enough energy to have built
one. The bag ! held In my hand was a
black one, sealskin, think. The stag
gering thought of what the loss of my
bag meant to me put my finger on the
bell and kept it there until the porter
came.
Did you ring. sir?" he asked. poking
his head through the curtains. obse-
quiously. Mcknight objects that nobody
can poke his head through a curtain and
be obsequious. But Pullman porters can
and do.
NO" I snapped. 1T rang itself. What
in thunder do you mean by exchanging
my valise for this one? You'll have to
find it If you waken the entire car to do
it. There are important papers in that
Porter" called a feminine voice from
an upper berth nearby. Porter, am I
to dangle here all day?'
Let her dangle." I said. savageiy.
at me with injured dignity. Il brought
in your overcoat. sir. You carried your
own valise.'
caution I had refused to relinquish my
alligator bag. and had turned over my
other traps to the porter. It was clear
enough then. 1 was simply victim OF
the usual sleeping-car robbery. | was
in a lather OF Precipitation by that time
the lady down the car was still dam
Cling and talking about it; still nearer a
feminine voice was giving quick orders
in French. presumably to a maid. The
porter was on his knees. looking under
the berth.
Not there, SIR" he said. busting his
knees He was visibly more cheerful.
having been absolved of responsibility.
Reckon 1t was taken while you was
WanOerln around IH0 Cur last
I'll give you fifty dollars if you find
It," said. "A hundred. Reach up my
shoes and I'll-'
stopped abruptly. My eyes were fixed
in stupefied amazement on coat that
hung from a hook at the foot OF my
berth From the coat they travelled.
dazed, to the soft-bosomed shirt beside
1t, and from there to the collar and
cravat in the net hammock across the
windows.
"A hundred" the porter repeated.
showing his teeth. But / caught him by
the arm and pointed to the foot of the
berth.
"What-what color's that coat?" 1
asked. unsteadily.
Gray, sir" His tone was one Of gen.
tie reproof.
"And-the trousers?
He reached over and held up one
creased leg. Gray. too" he grinned.
"Gray" l could not believe even his
corroboration of my own eyes. But my
clothes were blue!'' The porter was
amused; he Owed under the curtains and
brought up a pair OF shoes. "Your shoes,
sir" he said, with flourish. Reckon
Now, there are two things I always
avoid in my dress-possibly an idiosyn-
Grassy of my bachelor existence. These
tabooed articles are red neckties and tan
shoes. And not only were the shoes the
porter lifted from the floor of a gorgeous
shade of yellow. but the scarf which was
run through the turned-over collar was
gaudy red. It took a full minute for