er bonnet very much askew.
The newsboy, with an abashed air, slid down the aisle.

"Madam, I sincerely beg your pardon," said the tall man who had caused
the commotion. He arose, his green book in one hand, and bowed his
apologies. "I regret exceedingly that I startled you. But that
insufferable young puppy had the extreme audacity to inflict himself on
me when I was reading, and I lost my temper. I am sorry but I--"

"You didn't strike him, did you?" asked the old lady, reproachfully.

"No, madam. Though such conduct would have been justified on my part,
I merely spoke to him. It was this--this book that I used rather
roughly and which awakened you."

"Then aren't we at Colchester yet?"

"No, madam. It is some little ride yet. If you will allow me I shall
be happy to let you know when we arrive. And if you are without any
one to help you off with your luggage, as it is raining and likely to
continue--"

"Oh, thank you, sir, but Jabez will meet me. I must have dozed off,
and when I heard that noise--"

"Which I regret exceedingly, madam," interposed the military-appearing
traveler with another bow.

The old lady again composed herself. The tall man bowed again, resumed
his seat and tried to read, but his feelings had been too much ruffled,
it was evident, to allow a peaceful resumption of his former mood.

"The idea! The very idea!" he murmured, speaking to the window,
against the glass of which the raindrops were now dashing impotently,
and as though angry at not being admitted to the warmth and light of
the car. For dusk had fallen and the electric lights were aglow in the
Pullman, making it a very cosy place in contrast to the damp and muddy
country through which the train was rushing.

"Gad! what's the world coming to when a man can't read what he likes
without every whippersnapper interrupting him with--Shag! I say,
Shag!" he went on, raising his voice from a murmured whisper to a
louder command. "Porter, send my man here! Where's that rascal Shag?"

"Yes, sah, Colonel! I'm right yeah! Yeah I is, Colonel!" and a negro,
with a picturesque fringe of white, kinky hair, shuffled from the
porter's quarters, where he had been enjoying a quiet chat with the
black knight of the whisk broom. "What is you' desire, Colonel?"

"I want peace and quiet, Shag! That's what I want! Twice I've tried
to read my book undisturbed, and that insufferable train-boy--that
rascal who probably doesn't know