Sequin's to-night?" Uncle Jimpson
eyed the bags suspiciously. "'Scuse me, sir, but you ain't sellin'
nothin', is you?"
The laugh that greeted this was so spontaneous, that Uncle Jimpson
hastened to apologize: "I nebber thought you wuz, only we wasn't
lookin' fer no railroad company, an' I 'lowed you didn't look lak you
wuz comin' to de party."
"What party?" asked the man, his look of amusement giving place to one
of dismay.
"Our-alls party. We's havin' a ball an' a house-warmin'. You must be
comin' fum a long ways off not to be hearin' 'bout hit!"
"You mean the Sequins are having a party, tonight?"
"Yas, sir."
"But aren't they expecting me? Didn't they get my telegram?"
"I dunno, sir. Dey nebber said nothin' to me."
The stranger stood with feet apart, watch in hand, and a grim
expression on the only part of his face visible between his cap and
his upturned collar.
"What time is the next train back to town?"
"Dey ain't none, 'ceptin' de special, what's hired to take de party
back to town. Dat goes 'bout two o'clock."
"I'll wait for it," said the stranger, flinging his bag against the
waiting-room door and beginning to pace restlessly up and down the
snow-covered platform.
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