The words came sadly from the old man’s lips. Thus they sailed away, and never more was word heard of them by the living world.
The years came and passed, but these two loving hearts came not again to the haunts of man.
And the other—Junius Cobb? He lay an inert mass in the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty, on Mt. Olympus.
CHAPTER VII
A beautiful day it was, this 19th of June, A. D. 2000; to be sure, the sun was sending down its rays with a trifle more heat than was agreeable, but all things considered, it was one of those lovely days which one sees, in the month of June, in Washington.
The heads of the various departments had not yet left the city for their summer vacations in the country, but were hard pressed by the business required of them by Congress; for that body was still in session, as the national legislature did not end its work until the first of July.
In the Treasury building, Treasury Square, all was bustle and activity, and clerks and messengers were flying in every direction.
At his desk in the sumptuous office provided for him, sat Mr. Brett, the Treasurer of the United States; while near him, quietly smoking a cigar, sat Mr. Peck, the first assistant to the Treasurer.
They were quietly discussing matters pertaining to their department, and evidently had plenty of time on their hands.