waiting-room to the information desk. There I unloaded again, and picked up the telephone directory. There were two or three telephones setting along the ledge of the desk. I followed the K's down the column, and then up, and then down again; but there wasn't an R. M. Kirby among them.
"That was different. It hadn't occurred to me that they might not have a telephone. The man in charge of the desk was busy writing. I waited a moment, and then I said:—'Can you tell me the best way to get to 1944 Iuka Avenue?'
"'No, lady, I don't know the street,' he said, without looking up.
"'It's out near the University,' I said.
"He kept on writing.
"I waited another minute. 'Can you tell me where I can get a cab?' I asked, meekly.
"He looked up for a second, and pointed with his pen: 'Outside,' he said.
"Of course I hadn't supposed that it would be right in the waiting-room; but until he pointed, I hadn't known which was the way out; for it is an awfully big station, and I didn't know in which direction to start.
