"No, I suppose not, Mr. Palmer."
"It isn't to be expected, for you are only a boy."
"Yes, I am only a boy."
"I suppose I was the same at your age. How fortunate it was that you invited me to accompany you this evening. I feel under the greatest obligations to you," and Palmer, seizing our hero's hand, shook it with impulsive energy.
"I am sure you are quite welcome, Mr. Palmer."
Robert was beginning to be weary. To his mind, Palmer seemed to be acting in a very silly manner. However, as he reflected, he was only a boy, and could not comprehend the effect of a grand passion on a man like his fellow clerk.
The next day Palmer was like a man in a dream. He was at his desk in the office, but he found it hard to attend to his duties in an intelligent manner. He made some ludicrous blunders, which finally attracted his employer's notice.
"It seems to me, Mr. Palmer," he said quietly, "that you are not quite yourself. Where did the man you just waited on wish to go?"
"Alameda," blurted out Palmer. "No," he corrected himself in some confusion, "Denver, Colorado."
"You seem to have Alameda on the brain. We don't sell tickets to Alameda."