"My time is at your disposal," replied Burnham, smiling, and leaning back in his chair somewhat wearily, "and I am all attention; proceed."
Thus far the old man had succeeded in arousing in his listener only a languid curiosity. This coal magnate was accustomed to being interrupted by "cranks" of all kinds, as are most rich men, and often enjoyed short interviews with them. This one had opened the conversation in much the usual manner, and the probability seemed to be that he would now go on to unfold the usual scheme by which his listener's thousands could be converted into millions in an incredibly short time, under the skilful management of the schemer. But his very next words dispelled this idea and aroused Robert Burnham to serious attention.
"Do you remember," the old man asked, "the Cherry Brook bridge disaster that occurred near Philadelphia some eight years ago?"
"Yes," replied Burnham, straightening up in his chair, "I do; I have good reason to remember it. Were you on that train?"
"I was on that train. Terrible accident, wasn't it?"
"Terrible; yes, it was terrible indeed."
"Wouldn't have been quite so bad if the cars hadn't taken fire and burned up after they went down, would it?"
"The fire was the most distressing part of it; but why do you ask me these questions?"
"You were on board, I believe, you and your wife and your child, and all went down. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, it is so. But why, I repeat, are you asking me these questions?
It is no pleasure to me to talk about this matter, I assure you."