The Argosy, Vol. XXIV, No. 3 — page 135: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A WEIRD INTERVAL. 519 ters finally turned out so that he could leave, he packed up in one night, took the fastest steamer afloat, and was now nearly at his journey’s end. ‘What delicious fun,’’ he kept telling himself, ‘‘to walk in on them— send up some other name, and then see if she knows me !’’ He mingled little with the few passengers on board. His happy anticipa- tions were the best of company, he decided. He sometimes chatted on deck with Miss Orton, from Buffalo, who sat next him at table. One morning he was explaining to her how to mark her chart of the ship’s speed, and he caught her looking at him with a curious expression as he announced, with a little triumphant ring in his tones, that there remained less than five hundred miles for them to cover. : ‘“ You are very anxious to get across, Mr. Cadwalader,’’ she said, lifting her eyes suddenly to look at him. He blushed in spite of himself, and Miss Orton laughed. Cadwalader wondered if she had guessed his secret. But it didn’t matter, he told himself. He should probably never see her again. : Long afterward he wondered if things would have turned out differently if he had not seen her again. There was, of course, nobody to meet him at the pier. He had been an orphan for many years, and the uncle with whom he lived up to the time of his departure for Europe had since died. So when he reached New York there was nothing to detain him there, for the Deerings had long since moved to Peekskill. And leaving his trunks in temporary storage, Cadwalader started for Peekskill within three hours after the Lucania had landed him at her pier. 7 The train was due at Peekskill at eight fifteen. He had snatched a little supper before leaving. He would arrive at the house just about the time one might be expected to make an ordinary evening call. What name should he send in, he asked himself? Anderson, he decided, would do. That was his middle name, the same as his cousin, now in Chicago, who had called on Edna sometimes in the old days. And Kdna would be twenty four now! MHe could not realize it. He found it impossible to make himself think of her in any other light than the fairy-like creature in the earliest spring time of beautiful womanhood. But that he would love her more fondly, if that were possible, in the new environ- ment than in the old, he had no manner of doubt. He was hungering now for a sight of her face, more fiercely, it seemed to him, than at any time since he had gone away, eight years before. The train appeared to go very slowly for an express. Ah, now it had come to a stop! Cadwalader rose from his comfortable position in the revolving chair and strolled to the rear door. The brakeman was just leaving the platform with his red lantern to signal that the train was blocked. ‘“What’s the matter ?’’ Cadwalader asked him. But the man hurried off, pretending not to hear. He was well drilled in his duty toward the company. Cadwalader noticed that there was acurve just behind them. He stood watching the swaying light as the flagman carried CONnnicooOoks.c@