“At twelve,” replied the clerk.
“Then,” rejoined the traveler, who was evidently posted, “give me a room, and wake me at about one. That will be time enough.”
He was right. The “twelve o’clock train” from Lafayette, going through to Springfield, did not come along till about fifteen minutes after one. In the winter time, a traveler in the west can always count on a train about one hour after its time, unless some unusual accident has delayed it.
At Logansport, Indiana, I got taken down a little. The way of it was this: On the train from Peoria, I made the acquaintance of a gentleman who kept an hotel in Logansport, and, in the course of the morning, as we neared that place, I borrowed a literary paper from him, which I forgot to return. Having an hour or two to wait for a train to Fort Wayne, where I should be obliged to change cars again for Pittsburg, I went into the hotel of the gentleman mentioned, for the purpose of getting breakfast. Having taken breakfast, I thought of the paper I had borrowed, and not seeing the landlord, and desiring to return it to the owner in person, and thank him for the favor, I asked the clerk where he was
“He is out at the stables,” returned the clerk.
“Will he be in soon?”
“I don’t know. He went out to show a man a horse that he has for sale.”
“Then I will go out; shall I go through this way?” I asked, pointing to a path leading from the rear of the house to the stables.
“Yes, go right out that way. But be careful. There is a dog out in the yard that is a little cross sometimes, and——”
“O,” I interrupted, carelessly, “no dog bites me. I am not afraid.”