"So he heard and treasured that remark to some purpose," he said; "well, I will not dispute your intuition theory, since your last words assure me that I do not fall so far short of your imaginary 'C,' as did my personator. I imagine your expression of countenance, on learning the intelligence, was hardly flattering to his vanity."
Nattie, who had colored at the first of his remark, replied contemptuously,
"His self-conceit was too great to attribute my very uncordial reception to anything except, as he said, 'my bashfulness.' I presume it has afforded him great enjoyment to think how successfully he stepped into your shoes, and what a joke he had played upon me."
"Upon us, you mean," corrected Clem.
"Certainly; upon us," Nattie replied, with another flush of color. "I remember how indifferent he seemed when I hinted that now we had met the chief pleasure of talking on the wire was gone. And I believe he didn't actually say in so many words that he was 'C,' but left me to understand it so."
"And I am indebted to him for being such a lonesome, miserable fellow the latter part of my telegraphic career," said Clem, rather savagely.
Nattie murmured something about the time pass-
