“So you never saw a telephone?”

“Never.”

“You tell me that?”

“Yes.”

Our hero knew he had a long journey before him; he was naturally very fond of a joke and excitement, and besides he had instinctive hatred for designing men.  Our hero was aware that the trains, as a rule, are infested with sharps, and the efforts of the railroad companies to squelch these nuisances are not altogether successful.  Our adventurer determined to have a little amusement, and if his suspicions were fully verified he was resolved to teach at least one sharp a good lesson.  We will repeat, Desmond did not look like an athlete or a youth who had seen the rough side of life; he could easily be mistaken for an ordinarily bright youth who had much to learn.

“So you really never saw a telephone?”

“Never,” repeated the man.

Desmond, having determined upon his course of action, assumed a most serious air, and with the greatest earnestness graphically described a telephone, and the stranger appeared to be all interest and attention, and expressed his surprise by innocent ejaculations, as our hero related the wonderful possibilities of the telephone.

It was an amusing scene, or would have been to one who was under the rose and understood that a game was being played.

When Desmond’s description apparently, as stated, told in the most earnest manner the sharp, as we shall call him, said: 

“Well that beats me, it beats anything I ever heard.  See here, stranger, you are making a fool of me with a big fish story because I am a green Western man, born and raised on the prairie.”

“No, I’ve told you the truth.”

“Well, well, you come from the city?”

“No, I am going to the city.”

“New York?”

“Yes.”

“Is that your home?”

“Well, New York lies near where I live.”

“Dear me, what wonderful sights you have seen!”

“Yes, sir.”

“That New York is a wonderful place.”

“You bet it is.”

“I am going there some day—­yes, I’ve said I’d see New York some day and I will.  It must make a man blind for a few days to go around there.”

“Well, yes, it is rather dazzling,” said Desmond.

So the conversation continued for quite a time and finally the stranger rose and went away, saying he would return immediately.  Quite a respectable-looking man took the vacated seat beside Desmond, and the last neighbor asked: 

“Do you know that green-looking chap who was just talking to you?”

“No, sir, I never saw him before.”

“Then you don’t know who he is?”

“No, sir.”

“That is a son of Senator F——­, the richest mine owner out in this section; he looks like a countryman.  You see he was raised in the West, but he is one of the most honest and good-hearted fellows in the world, liberal to a fault, fond of fun, but a good and true friend to any one.”