Adventure stories; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mines and mineral resources -- Fiction; Mystery fiction; Theater -- Fiction
His task would be easier, if it could be accomplished while the sick man
lay undiscovered in the hospital. If he should already be dead, when he
arrived, there would be an end to Brainard’s job altogether; and that
would have been a keen disappointment to the young man.
His job? A hundred times his mind reverted to this perplexing
consideration—what, exactly, was he to do when he had reached the end of
his long journey?
First, he would find where Krutzmacht’s offices were, and then? He had
been told to make off with whatever he might find in the private safe.
For this purpose he had provided himself, in Chicago, with a bulky
leather valise, in which his discarded raiment was now reposing. It all
sounded like an expedition in high piracy, but he quieted any scruples
with the resolve that he would make off merely to New York, if Krutzmacht
still lived, instead of Berlin, and remain there to await further
developments.
So, as the Overland Limited rushed across the prairie states, Brainard
took counsel with himself, mentally sketching out his every move from the
moment when he should step from the train. The readiness with which his
mind reached out to this new situation surprised himself; he was already
becoming in some way a new person.
The journey itself was a revelation to him and an education. With his
Broadway prejudice that the United States stopped somewhere just above
the Bronx and behind the Jersey hills, he was astonished to find so much
habitable country beyond these horizons and so many people in it who did
not seem to depend upon New York City for their livelihood or happiness.
At first he was so much preoccupied with his errand and himself in his
surprising new rôle that he paid little attention to the scenes spread
before his eyes. Chicago impressed him only as a dirtier and more
provincial New York. But the next morning when he awoke at Omaha he
began to realize that America was more than a strip of land along the
Atlantic seaboard, and by the time the train had left Ogden his respect
for his fatherland had immensely increased.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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