“What do you mean?” asked the irritated pioneer.
“If they show in Cleveland, I’d like to go, first rate,” the Conductor explained.
“Those ladies,” Dick thundered, at the end of his patience, “are not actresses!”
“Hmf! What be they then?” asked the Conductor.
| ✳ | ✳ | ✳ | ✳ | ✳ |
They had arrived at Buffalo. They had gone to the Niagara Hotel, and had been told that there were no rooms for them; and to the Tifft House, where there were no rooms; and to the Genesee, where every room was occupied. Finally they had found quarters in a very queer hotel, where the clerk, as he dealt out the keys, said:
“One for Lily, and one for Daisy and one for Rosie—here, Boss, sort out the flower-bed yourself,” as he handed over the bunch.
Dick was taking a drink in the dingy bar-room, and trying to forget the queer looks that had been cast at his innocent caravan all the day, when the solitary hall-boy brought a message summoning him to Miss Euphrosyne’s room. He went, with his moral tail between his mental legs.
“Mr. Cutter,” said Miss Euphrosyne, firmly, “we have made a mistake.”