“You astonish me; pray explain yourself.”
“America,” and Hugh wheeled his chair closer to Cobb, “is a small town on the Central Sea, in the old State of Kentucky. All the news of the world is telegraphed to this place, and set in form for printing. Copies of this form are then transmitted by telegraph to every city which is to reproduce the paper—a very simple operation.”
“Yes,” dubiously; “very simple, indeed!”
“But let us not discuss the subject now; I will take you to America, and show you the whole system.”
And the subject of the “Daily American” rested.
At this moment Captain Hathaway entered the room, bowing to both of the gentlemen.
“Good evening, Hugh,” he exclaimed, extending his hand. Then to Cobb: “Good evening, Mr. Cobb.”
“Colonel, sir; Colonel Cobb. You forget you are addressing your superior officer.”
As Hugh spoke, he gave the other a severe look, as if to say, “How do you like it?”
The story of young Hathaway’s discourtesy toward Cobb that morning had been told him.