always, whatever the state of the weather, an eminent umbrella with a
carved-ivory handle. He equipped himself with as many newspapers from
the stand as would an editor of a daily paper. The other men drew
conclusions that it was highly necessary for him to study the state
of the market and glean the truth from the various reports.

One morning Henry Lee was also journeying to the City on the
eight-o'clock train. He held a $2500 position in a publisher's
office, and felt himself as good as any man in Banbridge, with the
possible exception of this new-comer, and he accosted him with regard
to his sheaf of newspapers.

"Going to have all the news there is?" he inquired, jocularly.

Carroll looked up and smiled and nodded. "Well, yes," he replied. "I
find this my only way--read them all and strike an average. There is
generally a kernel of truth in each."

"That's so," said Lee.

Carroll glanced speculatively at the ostentatiously squared shoulders
of the other man as he passed through the car.

When the train reached Jersey City, Carroll, leaving his newspapers
fluttering about the seat he had occupied, passed off the train and
walked with his air of careless purpose along the platform.

"This road is a pretty poorly conducted concern," said a voice behind
him, and Lee came up hurriedly and joined him.