..."
"Well," asked Foster sharply, "are you mooning? Medora sat in the same
place yesterday, and she talked for awhile too and then fell into a
moonstruck silence. What's it all about?"
Randolph came out of his reverie. "Oh, I was just hoping the poor boy was
back on his pins all right again."
Then he dropped back into thought. He was devising an outing designed to
restore Cope to condition. If Cope could arrange for a free Saturday, they
might contrive a week-end from Friday afternoon to Monday morning. It was
too late for the north and too late for the opposite Michigan shore; but
there was "down state" itself, where the days grew warmer and the autumn
younger the farther south one went. There was a trip down a certain
historic river,--historic, as our rivers went, and admirably scenic always.
He recalled an exceptional hotel on one of its best reaches; one overrun in
midsummer, but doubtless quiet at this season. It stood in the midst of
some striking cliffs and gorges; and possibly one of the little river-
steamers was in commission, or could be induced to run....
Foster dropped his muffler pettishly.
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