"Certainly, certainly"—the President's tone was genially paternal; "I merely wanted to have a word with Mr. Burton;" and he rose and drew the general agent across to the opposite section.
"Sit down, sit down, Burton; don't stand on ceremony with me," he said, patronizingly. "I came to ask a favor of you, and positively you embarrass me."
Burton sat down mechanically.
"I learned a few minutes ago through young Brockway that you were on the train," the President continued, lowering his voice, "and I understand that he wishes you to take charge of his party for the day on the trip up Clear Creek Canyon. Has he spoken to you about it?"
"Yes; he was here just now." Burton answered as he had sat down—mechanically.
"And you consented to do it, I presume?"
"Why, yes; he asked it as a personal favor, and I thought I might make a few new friends for our line. But if you don't approve——"
"Don't misunderstand me," interrupted the President, with well-feigned magnanimity; "as I said, I came to ask a favor. You met my daughter, Gertrude, when we were out last summer, I believe?"
"Yes, at Manitou." The general agent was far beyond soundings on the sea of mystery by this time.
"Well, you must know she took a great fancy to your wife, and when I heard of this arrangement, I determined to ask you to take her along with you for the day. May I count upon it?"