In the Midst of Alarms | Page 2

clerk. "How's things? Get my telegram?"
"Yes," answered the clerk; "but I can't give you 27. It's been taken for a
week. I reserved 85 for you, and had to hold on with my teeth to do

that."
The reply of the young man was merely a brief mention of the place of
torment.
"It is hot," said the clerk blandly. "In from Cleveland?"
"Yes. Any letters for me?"
"Couple of telegrams. You'll find them up in 85."
"Oh, you were cocksure I'd take that room?"
"I was cocksure you'd have to. It is that or the fifth floor. We're full.
Couldn't give a better room to the President if he came."
"Oh, well, what's good enough for the President I can put up with for a
couple of days."
The hand of the clerk descended on the bell. The negro sprang forward
and took the "grip."
"Eighty-five," said the clerk; and the drummer and the Negro
disappeared.
"Is there any place where I could leave my bag for a while?" the
professor at last said timidly to the clerk.
"Your bag?"
The professor held it up in view.
"Oh, your grip. Certainly. Have a room, sir?" And the clerk's hand
hovered over the bell.
"No. At least, not just yet. You see, I'm--"
"All right. The baggage man there to the left will check it for you."

"Any letters for Bond?" said a man, pushing himself in front of the
professor. The clerk pulled out a fat bunch of letters from the
compartment marked "B," and handed the whole lot to the inquirer,
who went rapidly over them, selected two that appeared to be addressed
to him, and gave the letters a push toward the clerk, who placed them
where they were before.
The professor paused a moment, then, realizing that the clerk had
forgotten him, sought the baggage man, whom he found in a room
filled with trunks and valises. The room communicated with the great
hall by means of a square opening whose lower ledge was breast high.
The professor stood before it, and handed the valise to the man behind
this opening, who rapidly attached one brass check to the handle with a
leather thong, and flung the other piece of brass to the professor. The
latter was not sure but there was something to pay, still he quite
correctly assumed that if there had been the somewhat brusque man
would have had no hesitation in mentioning the fact; in which surmise
his natural common sense proved a sure guide among strange
surroundings. There was no false delicacy about the baggage man.
Although the professor was to a certain extent bewildered by the
condition of things, there was still in his nature a certain dogged
persistence that had before now stood him in good stead, and which
had enabled him to distance, in the long run, much more brilliant men.
He was not at all satisfied with his brief interview with the clerk. He
resolved to approach that busy individual again, if he could arrest his
attention. It was some time before he caught the speaker's eye, as it
were, but when he did so, he said:
"I was about to say to you that I am waiting for a friend from New
York who may not yet have arrived. His name is Mr. Richard Yates of
the--"
"Oh, Dick Yates! Certainly. He's here." Turning to the negro, he said:
"Go down to the billiard room and see if Mr. Yates is there. If he is not,
look for him at the bar."
The clerk evidently knew Mr. Dick Yates. Apparently not noticing the

look of amazement that had stolen over the professor's face, the clerk
said:
"If you wait in the reading room, I'll send Yates to you when he comes.
The boy will find him if he's in the house; but he may be uptown."
The professor, disliking to trouble the obliging clerk further, did not
ask him where the reading room was. He inquired, instead, of a
hurrying porter, and received the curt but comprehensive answer:
"Dining room next floor. Reading, smoking, and writing rooms up the
hall. Billiard room, bar, and lavatory downstairs."
The professor, after getting into the barber shop and the cigar store,
finally found his way into the reading room. Numerous daily papers
were scattered around on the table, each attached to a long, clumsy cleft
holder made of wood; while other journals, similarly encumbered, hung
from racks against the wall. The professor sat down in one of the easy
leather-covered chairs, but, instead of taking up a paper, drew a thin
book from his pocket, in which he was soon so absorbed that he
became entirely unconscious of his strange surroundings. A light touch
on the shoulder brought him up from