“How do you do?” he returned, sleepily. “Did you just come up?”
“Yes—just got off the train.”
“How did you—O, I thought it was Simon McCann,” he said, as he drew nearer.
“No, I am not Simon,” I replied. “On the contrary, my name is Smith—first name John. Do you know any one of that name here?”
What a question to ask anywhere in the world!
“O, yes; half-a-dozen families. There’s old John, and——”
“Do you know William Smith?”
“Yes—quite an old man, is he not?”
“Probably he is. I never saw him. He moved here twenty-five years ago.”
“From Pennsylvania?”