Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1912-07-12

collapsed ht-bag, which had in all evi.
dence received some rough usage In
Its time, and reached toward the roll.
Mr.. Ryanne interposed.
Il win see to that, my man." terse-
| y.
Yes, SIR"
Where is your guest-list?" de-
manded Mr.. Ryanns Of the manager.
The head-porter's bureau, sir. ]
will see II you have any mail" The
manager passed into his own bureau.
1t was rather difficult to tell whether
this man was an American or an Eng.
lishman. His accent was western, but
his manner was decidedly British. At
any rate, that tone and carriage must
be Fashioned by good English sover-
eigns, or for once his judgment was
at fault.
The porter dashed upstairs. Mr..
Ryanne, his bundle still snug under
his arm, sauntered over to the head
porter's bureau and ran his glance up
and down the columns Of visiting.
cards. Once he nodded with approval,
and again he smiled, having discov.
cred that which sent a ripple across
his sleeping sense Of amusement. Ma.
tor Callahan, room 2O6; Fortune Ched'
soye, 2O5; George P. A. Jones, 21O.
HIN! the Major smells of County
Antrim and the finest whisky in all
the isle. Fortune Chedsoye; that is a
pleasing name; tinkling brooks, the
waving green grasses In the mead
ows, the kline in the water, the feet
ing shadows under the oaks; a pas
toral, a bucolic name. To claim For
tune for mine own; happy thought.
AS he uttered these poesy expires
sions aloud, in voice low and not I'm
pleasing. for all that It was banter
Ing, the head-porter stared at him witt
mingling doubt and alarm; and as Il
to pronounce these emotions mutely
for the benefit Of the other, he per
mitted his eyes to open their widest
tut, tut; that's alright, porter.
am cursed with the habit of speaking
my inmost thoughts. Some person.
are afflicted with insomnia; some fal
asleep in church; think orally. Beast
ly habit, eh?"
The porter then understood that ht
was dealing not with a species o
mild lunacy, but with that kind o
light-hearted cynicism upon which
the world (as porters know it, had Sc
! Its approving seal. In brief, he smiled
family; and IL he had any pleasantr!
to pass in turn, the approach of tn,
manager, now clothed metaphoricall!
in deferentiallsm, relegated 1t t
the limbo Of things thought but lef
unsaid.
Here is a letter for you, Mr.. Ry
anne. Have you any more luggage?
NO" Mr.. Ryanne smiled. "Shal
/ pay for my room in advance?"
ooh, no, sir" Ten years ago tn,
manager would have blushed at hay
ing been so misunderstood. "You
room is 2OS."
"Will you have a boy show me tn,
way"
81 shall myself attend to that.
the room is not what you wish
may be exchanged"
THE room is the one telegraphe,
for. | am superstitious to a degree
On three boats | have had fine state
rooms numbered POS. Twice the mum
Der Of my hotel room has been tn
same. On the last voyage there wer
2OS passengers, and the captain ha
made 2OS voyages on the Mediterra
nean."
quite a coincident."
"Ah, if roulette could be played wit
such certainty"
! Mr.. Ryanne sighed, hitched up hi
bundle, which, being heavy, was begin
ming to wear upon Ids arm, and sign
fed to the manager to lead the way.
AS they vanished round the corne
to the lift, the head-porter studied tn
guest-list. He had looked over it
dozen times that day, but this was tn
first instance Of his being really il
terested In It. As his chin was frest
ly shaven he had no stubble to strok
to excite his mental processes; 8
he fell back, as we say, upon the col