They was all in a contest, and pulling down the money, too.

I was talking to old man Whitmore all one evening.

He was telling me--" From away out yonder behind a hill came the throaty call of the coming train.

The dried little man jumped up, mumbled that it did beat all how time went when yuh got to talking over old days, and hustled two trunks out of the baggage room.

Luck got his grip out of the office, settled himself into his coat, and took a last, long pull at the cigarette stub before he threw it away.