Anna Alice Chapin

“ The steady sound was soothing, and, not even caring that his feet were already soaking from the rain that came in at the open window, Guy tucked his big pocket case, with the bonds, under his pillow, and went to sleep.
He slept long and heavily, and woke with a curious sense of having been disturbed by something that ought not to have been. Just so a footstep will arouse one when a thunderclap will not. He was certain, as he sat up in bed, that something was not altogether right. His first instinct was to feel under his pillow for his pocket case with the bonds. ”

“ IT was dusk when Guy Madison boarded the Gilt-edged Express for Chicago, and piled his grip, umbrella, suit case, and magazines onto the forward seat of section 23. He looked at the number with grim approval as he did so.
“Just the number for me,” he told himself ironically. “Any man that has been fool enough to lose a girl three times over, deserves to draw twenty-three in every deal he tackles.”
He opened one of his windows wide, had a brief argument with the porter about it, switched on the electric light, and began to read. His magazine failed to divert him. ”

“ The sanctimonious cleric and the fat lady were different. They glared at him from their respective seats, and he was conscious of the glares, and felt the better for them—also for the fresh air and the cocktail.
Nevertheless, he knew it was going to be a beastly trip. His father had wired him to come to Chicago immediately, and to bring certain negotiable bonds with him. It sounded rather mysterious and exciting, but then the governor was up to the neck in a lot of big new deals nowadays, and was always doing unexpected things. Guy wished that he had half the old man’s nerve and grit. ”