"Well, if you and he have seats in there, and there are no more to be had," said Duncan, "you might as well make up your mind to stand up. Come on, Rennsler, let's see if Howard-Jones is trying to do us." Saying this, Duncan started into the next car and was closely followed by Van Vort. This car had been kept till the last moment, so they found it just filling up, and at the farther end they discovered Waterman, trying to stretch himself over four seats and convince the numerous comers that they were engaged.
"I beg pardon, but can a lady have this seat?" said Duncan, coming up behind Waterman.
"I am sorry, but it's engaged," grunted the latter without looking up. "This is a smoker anyway."
"Well, this lady is going to sit on your lap, you old brute."
"Hello, Duncan," said Waterman, looking up somewhat startled. "Osgood told me you were back; I am deuced glad to see you."
"Pull down those feet and give us some room, and then I'll talk," answered Duncan.
Waterman made room for his friends, and depositing their luggage on the floor they sat down opposite him. As the train moved slowly out of the station, Howard-Jones sauntered into the car and took the seat remaining, next to Waterman.
"Well, how is Chicago?" Waterman asked Duncan.
"Don't talk to him about Chicago," interrupted Van Vort. "Don't you know he has just come from London?"
"Of course I do, but I know all about London. I want to hear about Mr. Breezy and Miss Lakeside, and all the other queer people one reads about in Life and Puck. Don't you remember the last time we saw Duncan? He was going gunning for elevators, and I want to hear about them. How are the pork-packers, Duncan?"