"Bill Jones left a peckful of luscious apples in ye editorial sanctum
to-day," he said gaily. "Come again, Bill," and laying the fruit down,
turned away, Jimmy's delighted chuckles following him to the door and
beyond.

Outside, he hesitated a moment, and then turned in the direction of the
little railroad station. Seeing him, the weedy youth who acted as agent
brought his chair, tilted back at an almost impossible angle, to the
earth, took his feet down from a table, laid aside an old and battered
magazine and expressed devout gratitude to heaven that any one should
relieve what he was pleased to term his solitary confinement.

Hanson took the chair pushed toward him and for nearly an hour discussed
events in the outside world, and the various phases of his profession in
what the agent found a most entertaining manner. Finally he looked at
his watch, murmured something about an engagement and rose to go.
"Well," he said at parting, "I expect the next time I see you I'll be
buying a ticket."

"Going to leave us soon?" asked the youth regretfully.

"Not to-day," smiled the manager, "but soon. Oh, by the way, now I think
of it--is there a train goes straight from here to Colina?"

"Not straight. You got to change twice; once at the junction and once at
the branch."

"And what kind of a place is there to stay at? Any hotel?"

"I don't know. Not much of one, I guess. Gallito would know. But he's