"Well, I resolved to make a move toward you, and then when I got back home I'd tell them that I'd talked with a genuine lord."
"Where is 'back home'?" asked Stranleigh.
"I guess I'd better introduce myself, as one good turn deserves another. My name's J. W. Garner. I'm clerk in a railway freight house, in Beloit, Wisconsin."
"Is that a remunerative occupation?"
"I can't say that it is, although I live fairly comfortable, and make enough money to come over here without asking anybody's help, and take the treatment without going on the pauper list. Still, it isn't in a freight house that big money is made in the railway business. Some chap on Wall Street, that never saw the railroad, will make more money on it in ten minutes than we clerks can in forty years."
"Yes; or lose it," said Stranleigh.
"Certainly, he runs that risk, but those chaps on the inside don't lose anything. E. L. Bannerdale, for instance."
"Curiously enough," replied Stranleigh, "I was just thinking of him. A great deal depends on the point of view in this world, and it occurred to me how much more lucky you were than Bannerdale."
