Hooker waited an hour—it seemed like five. Fenn read every word in the papers, even the advertisements. He dwelt long and lovingly over the financial pages, running his eyes up and down the columns of "to-day's transactions." He at last finished the perusal, and glanced at Hooker. He said nothing for awhile, and appeared restless, like a man with money weighing on his mind. This, of course, is a very distracting and unpleasant feeling. Several times he seemed on the verge of addressing his fellow-traveller, but desisted from the attempt. Finally he said:
"I see, friend, that you're reading one of Sotheby's catalogues."
"Yes," answered Hooker, shortly.
"You must be interested in books," pursued Fenn.
"Yes," was the brief response.
"Do you collect them?"
"Yes."
Fenn said nothing for five minutes. The stranger did not appear to be very communicative.
"Pardon me, Mr.——, I am also a book-collector. I have quite a fine library of my own."
"Really?"