“Nothing, thank you.”
“Oh, you needn't thank me. I didn't offer to give you a drink. What do you want, anyhow?”
“Have you got a directory?”
“No; we don't keep one. We don't care where our customers live. All we want is their money.”
Herbert did not fancy the bartender's tone or manner; but felt that it would be foolish to get angry. So he explained: “I have a cousin living in the city; I thought I could find out where he lived in the directory.”
“What's your cousin's name?”
“Cornelius Dixon.”
“Never heard of him. He don't buy his bitters at this shop.”
It was clear that no satisfaction was to be found here, and Herbert looked further. Finally, at a druggist's he found a directory, and hopefully looked for the name. But another disappointment awaited him. There were several Dixons, but Cornelius was not among them.
“I must give him up, and see what I can do by myself,” thought Herbert. “I wish I could come across him.”