when I was getting ready for bed, he set about clearing that matter up finally. He asked me where I lived before I went West to work. I told him in Minnesota."
"Did that mean anything to him?" the girl asked knowingly as her companion paused.
"Not much. You know, I told you that he has crossed the Atlantic no end of times; and he has been around the world about three times, too. But he's one of those true Britons who cling to British soil, and so make for Montreal direct from the dock and cross the continent on the Canadian Pacific and sail from Vancouver. No; I wrong him. Once he had to save time, so he did patronize the States. He travelled in our country four whole days, as the train couldn't make San Francisco quicker than that. And he stopped in Chicago, too—three hours, for he knows all about the silver dollars in the floor of the Palmer House barber shop. But aside from that vital fact, I must confess that most of the rest of his American information is Canadian. So, when I told him my
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