to have thrust on him the acting
of a part in which he knew none of the lines and dared not refuse the
character; and all these circumstances made dark and sinister by the
mysterious maladjustment of time and place; the possession of another
man's property; the haunting fear that in it somewhere were crime and
peril--these things, he thought, would drive him out of his senses,
unless he could be alone.

"I think I'll take the room," said he.

"If any one calls?" queried the clerk.

"I'm not in," said Amidon, gathering up the telegrams. "I do not wish
to be disturbed on any account."

Five years! What did it mean? There must be some mistake. But the
break in the endless chain of time, the change from summer to winter,
and from the dropping to sleep at Elm Springs Junction to the awakening
in the car--there could be no mistake about these. He sat in the room
to which he had been shown, buried in the immense pile in the strange
city, as quiet as a heron in a pool, perhaps the most solitary man on
earth, these thoughts running in a bewildering circle through his mind.
The dates of the papers--might they not have been changed by some silly
trick of new journalism, some straining for effect, like the agreement
of all the people in the world (as fancied by Doctor Holmes) to say
"Boo!" all at once to the moon? He ran his eyes over the news columns
and found them full of matter which was real news, indeed, to him.
President Kruger was reported as about to visit President McKinley for
the purpose of securing mediation in some South African war; and
Senator Lodge had made a speech asking for an army of one hundred
thousand men in, of all places, the Philippine Islands. The twentieth
century, and with it some wonderful events, had stolen on him as he
slept--if, indeed, he had slept--there could be no doubt of that.

He found his hands trembling again, and, fearing another collapse,
threw himself upon the bed. Then, as drowsiness stole on him, he
thought of the five years gone since last he had yielded to that
feeling, and started up, afraid to sleep. He saw lying on the table
the unopened telegrams, and tore them open. Some referred to sales of
oil, and other business transactions; one was to inform Brassfield that
a man named Alvord would not meet him in New York as promised, and one
was in cipher, and signed "Stevens."

He took from his pocket the letters of Brassfield, and read them. One
or two were invitation