"I'm sorry, Dick," said the clerk; "but I expect the fifth floor will
be gone when the Chicago express gets in."

"Well, what can you do for us, anyhow?"

"I can let you have 518. That's the next room to yours. Really, they're
the most comfortable rooms in the house this weather. Fine lookout over
the lake. I wouldn't mind having a sight of the lake myself, if I could
leave the desk."

"All right. But I didn't come to look at the lake, nor yet at the
railroad tracks this side, nor at Buffalo Creek either, beautiful and
romantic as it is, nor to listen to the clanging of the ten thousand
locomotives that pass within hearing distance for the delight of your
guests. The fact is that, always excepting Chicago, Buffalo is more
like--for the professor's sake I'll say Hades, than any other place in
America."

"Oh, Buffalo's all right," said the clerk, with that feeling of local
loyalty which all Americans possess. "Say, are you here on this Fenian
snap?"

"What Fenian snap?" asked the newspaper man.

"Oh! don't you know about it? I thought, the moment I saw you, that you
were here for this affair. Well, don't say I told you, but I can put
you on to one of the big guns if you want the particulars. They say
they're going to take Canada. I told 'em that I wouldn't take Canada as
a gift, let alone fight for it. I've _been_ there."