an
elevator among a number of men and women, and though we were all jammed
together no one appeared to notice me; but when we got out a boy
whistled at a companion and yelled: "Hi, Samson!" Mr. Ging darted out
under the arch, and I almost ran over him, when he halted on the
sidewalk to talk to a man. They walked along together for quite a
distance, nodding and making gestures, and when they separated Ging said
to me that he had just bought a subdivision of real estate. At this I
appeared to be pleased, but I was not; I was afraid that before the
close of the deal he might entangle himself in so many transactions that
he could not afford to pay cash for the mica mine. The further we went
the faster he walked, and suddenly he darted through a wall, and the
swinging doors came back and slapped me in the face. We sat down to a
table and Mr. Ging said that I might take whatever I desired, but that
he wanted only a cup of coffee and a piece of apple pie. I was hungry,
had eaten no breakfast and felt as if I could devour a beef steak as big
as a saddle skirt, but I said that coffee and apple pie would do me. He
asked me a number of questions concerning the mine, its distance from a
railway, condition of the wagon roads, and especially did he want to
know whether the local tax assessor made it a point to discriminate
against the non-resident property owner. I caught the spirit of his
quick utterances, and blew out my words in a splutter, striving to be
business-like, but before I could cover all his points he had eaten his
pie and was impatiently waiting for me.

"Want to go round to-night?" he asked, and before I could tell him that
I did want to go round, having but a vague idea as to what he meant, he
added: "And if I can get off this afternoon I'll take you out to the
stock-yards."

"I would much rather see your finest library," I replied.

"I guess you've got me there; don't know where it is, but I suppose we
can find it in the directory."

"I have read of the Art Institute here. You know where that is, I
presume."

"Y-e-s--low building over on the lake front. But I've never had time to
go into it. Well, suppose we get back to the office."

I raced with him, but he beat me by a neck, being more accustomed to the
track; and he shouted "Up!" as he darted under the marble arch. I
grabbed him and held him for a moment, told him that I did not care to
go up again so soon, that I would stroll about for a time and see him