The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-11-05

THE MYSTERIOUS STkANdkhs bottle of sarsapariIIa or lemon pop. with the result that Tracey calls Tan nehiIl, who runs the opposition hotel. skinflint and never takes strangers there except on their express desire. The mysterious stranger merely asked to be driven to the best hotel. This Is not like most commercial travellers, who. as a rule, know where they want to go, even in a strange town. having made inquiry in advance from their brothers of the road.
 Will Bigelow was dozing behind the desk, lulIed by the sound of Hi Nuts voice in the barroom as he explained to all and sundry just how he had in- advertently permitted Watty the tailor to best him at checkers that morning; otherwise the office was deserted. Tracey wakened Will by stamping heavily across the floor, and Will me chanicaliy pushed down his spectacies and dipped pen in ink. slowing the register round for the guests sigma ture He says he knew at glance that the mysterious stranger was no travelling man. But this Is a moot point, Tracey's memory being minute ly accurate and at variance with Will's assertion.
 The mysterious stranger was a young man. rather severely clothed in a dark suit which excited no interest in Bigeiow's understanding. although I, when I saw him later, had no dim- aulty in realizing that it had never been made by tailor whose place of business was more than five doors re- moved from Fifth avenue. He was tallish, but not really tall, and carried himself with a slight stoop which took away from his real height. Tracey says he had way of looking at you as If he was smiling inside at some joke he'd heard long time ago. and l don't know but that's fairly apt description of his ordinary expression. He had way, too, of nodding jerkily at you-just once-to show he recog- nized you or understood what you were driving at; at other times he carried his head a trif1e to one side and slightly forward. He was a man you wouldn't forget, somehow, though what there was about him that was remarkable nobody seemed to know.
 He nodded that jerky way in an- swer. to Will Bigelow''s "G'devenin'," and without saying anything took the pen and started to register. He had to stop. however, for Tracey was pressing him so close upon the right that he couldn't get any play for his elbow. and after a minute or two he asked Tracey politely would he mind stepping round to the left, where he could see just as we'll. So Tracey did. Then he wrote his name in a good round hand, Nathaniel Duncan. N. r."
 ''I'd like a room with bath." he told Will. something simple and chaste, within the means of a man in moderate circumstances"
 Will thought he was joking at first. but he didn't smile. so Will explained that there was a bathroom on the third floor at the end of the hall. though there wasn't much call for it. "I could give you a room next to that" he said, "but you wouldn't want it, guess"
 "Why not?" asked the mysterious stranger.
 Because" said Will. "'taint near the sample room"
 That doesn't make any difference. Pm on the wagon"
 The only sense Will could get out of that was that the young man was trav- cling for a buggy house and hadn't brought any samples with him. '1 thought" he allowed. ''as how you'd be wantin' a place to display your samples. but of course if you're in the wagon business
 "Oh," said MT. Duncan, "I thought you meant the sample room over there" He nodded toward the bar. That's what you call the dispensaries of intoxicating liquors in this part of the country. is it not?"
 Will made noise resembling an af- breath explained that travelling men generally wanted a sort of a show room next to theirs and that that was called sample room too.
 But I'm not a travelling man," said the mysterious stranger. ''SO l shall have as little use for the one as the other"
 "Then the room on the third foor'll do for you." said Will. How long do you calculate on stayin'?" That will depend" said Mir. Dun can. "a day or so. perhaps longer. un- til I can find comfortable and more permanent Quarters."