Part 1 (1/2)

The Camp in the Snow

by William Murray Graydon

CHAPTER I

A MERCILESS ENEMY

”All tickets, please!”

The blue-uniformed conductor, with a lantern under his ar-car of the Boston express

It was between seven and eight o'clock on the night of the tenth of Deceh the wintry landscape of the State of Maine

A-car was a well-dressed lad of eighteen, with a ruddy face, and gray eyes in which was a lurking gleaed man with a clean-shaven, cadaverous face and rusty black clothes He was reading a ses

As the conductor drew near, the lad fumbled hurriedly in his pockets He turned them inside out, one after another He looked on the floor, on the seat, in the folds of his clothing

”Your ticket, sir”

The conductor had been standing by the seat for a full minute

”I--I must have lost it,” replied the lad ”Just my beastly luck! You know that I had one, for you clipped it twice”

The conductor stared coldly

”Find it, or pay your fare,” he answered

The lad put his hand into the breast pocket of his cape coat He whipped out a handkerchief, and a bulky pocketbook The latter flew across the aisle and under the next seat, where it burst open

The clerical-looking man stooped and picked it up

”Per it back with a lo

”Much obliged,” answered the owner ”hello! there's a wad of billsman pretended not to hear He turned toward theand went on reading The conductor and the lad peered under the neighboring seats They saw no trace of the ers looked on with interest

”Lift your feet, sir,” said the conductor, sharply, as he tapped the clerical passenger's arm

The man obeyed with an air of injured innocence, and the roll of bank notes was instantly seen

”Quite an accident,” he protested ”I was not aware that my foot was on the money”

”Of course not,” sneered the conductor

”No insults, sir,” replied the other, in a dignified tone ”Here is my card I aast”