Cullen.
"Don't let's stand still," cried Miss Cullen. "Mr. Gordon, I'll run
you a race to the end of the platform." She said this only after
getting a big lead, and she got there about eight inches ahead of me,
which pleased her mightily. "It takes men so long to get started," was
the way she explained her victory. Then she walked me beyond the end
of the boarding to explain the working of a switch to her. That it was
only a pretext she proved to me the moment I had relocked the bar, by
saying--
"Mr. Gordon, may I ask you a question?"
"Certainly," I assented.
"It is one I should ask papa or Fred, but I am afraid they might not
tell me the truth. You will, won't you?" she begged, very earnestly.
"I will," I promised.
"Supposing," she continued, "that it became known that you have those
letters? Would it do our side any harm?"
I thought for a moment, and then shook my head. "No new proxies could
arrive here in time for the election," I said, "and the ones I have
will not be voted."
She still looked doubtful, and asked, "Then why did papa say just now,
'Fortunately'?"
"He merely meant that it was safer they shouldn't know."
"Then it is better to keep it a secret?" she asked, anxiously.
"I suppose so," I said, and then, added, "Why should you be afraid of
asking your father?"
"Because he might--well, if he knew, I'm sure he would sacrifice
himself; and I couldn't run the risk."
"I am afraid I don't understand?" I questioned.
"I would rather not explain," she said, and of course that ended the
subject.
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