Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1910-02-23


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 responsible
ty. Reckon it was taken while you
was wanderin' around the car last
night"
I'll give you $50 if you find it,"
said. "A hundred. Reach up my
shoes and I'll"
l stopped abruptly. My eyes were
fixed in stupefied amazement on a
coat that hung from a hook at the
foot of my berth. From the coat they
travelled, dazed, to the soft-bosomed
shirt beside it, and from there to the
collar and cravat in the net hammock
across the windows.
"A hundred!" the porter repeated,
showing his teeth. But 1 caught him
by the arm and pointed to the foot of
the berth.
"What-what color's that coat?" I
asked unsteadily.
"Gray, sir" His tone was one Of
gentle reproof.
"Apd--the trousers"
He reached over and held up one
creased leg. Gray, too" he grinned.
"Gray!" could not believe even his
confederation of my own eyes. But
my clothes were blue!" The porter
was amused; he dived under the cur
tains and brought up pair of shoes.
Your shoes, sir" he said with a
flourish. Reckon you've been dream
ing, sir"
Now, there are two things I always
avoid in my dress-possibly an lido
syncracy of my bachelor existence.
These tabooed articles are red neck
ties 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 a gaudy
red. 1t took a full minute for the real
import of things to penetrate my
dazed intelligence. Then l gave a
vindictive kick at the offending en-
senble.
They're not mine, any of them,"
snarled. "They are some other fell
lows. I'll sit here until I take root
before put them on
They're nice lookin' Clothes" the
porter put in, eying the red tie with
appreciation. "Ain't everybody would
have left you anything"
call the conductor" l said short
ly. Then a possible explanation oc-
Cured to me. ooh, porter-what's
the number of this berth?" @
Seven, sir. If you CANT wear
those shoes"
"Seven!" In my relief almost
shouted it. why, then, it's simple
enough. I'm in the wrong berth,
that's all. My berth is nine. Only
where the deuce is the man who be-
longs here?"
Likely in nine, sir" The darky
was enjoying himself. "You and the
other gentleman just got mixed in the
night. That's all, SIR 1t was clear
that he thought 1 had been drinking.
drew long breath. OF course,
that was the explanation. This was
number seven's berth, that was his
soft hat, this his umbrella, his coat,
his bag. My rage turned to irritation
at myself.
The porter went to the next berth
and l could hear his softly insinuat-
ing voice. Time to get up, sir. Are
you awake? Time to get up"
There was no response from num-
Der nine. l guessed that he had
opened the curtains and was looking
in Then he came back.
Number mines empty" he said
Empty! Do you mean my clothes
aren't there?" 1 demanded. "My va
lise? Why don't you answer me?"
'You doan' give me time" he retort-
ed. There amt nothin' there. But
it's been slept in
The disappointment was the greater
for my few moments of hope. 1 sat
up in a white fury and put on the
clothes that had been left me. Then,
still raging, 1 sat on the edge of the
berth and put on the obnoxious tan
shoes. The porter, called to his du-
ties, made little excursions back to
me, to offer assistance and to chuckle
at my discontinue. He stood by, out
wardly decorous, but with little irri-
tating grins of amusement around his
mouth, when 1 finally emerged with
the red tie in my hand.
BET the owner of those clothes did
not become them any more than you
do" he said, as he piled the ubiquitous
whisk broom.
when 1 get the owner of these
Clothes" I retorted grimly, ''he will
need a shroud. Where's the con
ductor?"
The conductor was coming, he as
sured me; also that there was no bag
answering the description of mine on
| the car 1 slammed my way to the
dressing room, washed, choked my
fifteen and half neck into fifteen