"Yes; he would certainly have put you out of the car if I had not." "I don't believe a word on't." "I do, Mrs. Whippleton. He says you have done the same thing before." "He's a fearful liar. I'll tell my son Charles all about it, and, if he has any influence, that man shall smart for it." "I don't think the conductor is to blame. He only did his duty." "Then you think I'm to blame," said she, putting on her dignity. "If you lost your ticket--" "Do you think I didn't lose it?" she interposed, quick to catch even an implied imputation. "Of course I think you did lose it. But the conductor cannot pass every one who says he has lost his ticket." "Well, I don't care. It was a mean trick, and I'll tell Charles all about it." "I wouldn't say anything to him about it. It will only worry him; and the conductor isn't to blame." "Do you think it is right to put a lone woman out of the car because she lost her ticket?" "The conductor didn't know you." "Yes, he did know me. I rid over this road only a week ago, when I went down to St. Louis to see my nephew." It was useless to argue the point with her. Perhaps, if she had made no fuss when she got into the car, the conductor might have entertained a different opinion of her. I wanted to obtain some information of her in regard to the Collingsby family; and I am willing to offer this as the reason for my chivalrous conduct. "You know Mr. Collingsby, if he does not know you," I said, in order to introduce the subject. "He's my son's pardner in business." "Are you personally acquainted with him?" "Well, I can't say I am much acquainted with him. His folks and ourn don't visit much, for, you see, the Collingsbys are rich and smart." "He has a brother, I have heard." "Yes; his brother Joseph is in Europe, with his wife and his sister." "His sister?" I queried, deeply interested in this branch of the topic. "Her name's Louise. She merried a good-for-nothin' feller in St. Louis, and left him; so she's a grass widder now." "Did you ever see her?" "I never did; but law sake, I've hearn my son Charles tell all about 'em. He knows 'em, root and branch; and they are all on 'em jest about as proud as Lucifer, and as consayted as a pullet over her fust egg. They're rich, and that's all that can be said on 'em. My son Charles does all the business of the firm, and if it wan't for him they'd all gone to ruin long ago." "But this Mr. Collingsby has a father?" "Yes; and he's jest like all the rest on 'em. They are all proud and consayted, and they come naterally enough by it, for the old man thinks the ground ain't good enough for him to tread on." "But he is not in business now?" "Ain't he, though? Yes, he is. He's the sleepin' pardner of the house of Collingsby and Whippleton. He put some money into it; but my son Charles finds all the brains."