And I know of no
better place to go to."
"Good-bye, and don't fail to pay me a visit in the spring."
"I will ... for a few weeks ... on my way to Paris."
"Paris? How are you going to get there?"
"I'll take a few cars of cattle east to New York from the Kansas City
stock yards ... and I'll work my way across on a cattle boat."
"Good-bye! I wish I had your initiative!"
"Good-bye! Mrs. Baxter ... glad to have met you!"
"Good-bye, Mr. Gregory," and she dropped my hand quickly and turned on
her heel, walking away with easy grace. I admired the back of her legs
as she disappeared into her tent.
"Good-bye, Dan!"
"Good-bye, Buzzer!"
"Daniel," called Mrs. Baxter from the interior of her tent, "you mustn't
call Mr. Gregory that!"
* * * * *
At Laurel again, I found it still a month before fall session. All
summer I had lacked my nude sunbaths to which I had become accustomed.
So again I sought my island.
* * * * *
I rented my room over the tinshop again, and was soon in the thick of
the fall term. By this time I had my contemporaries on the hill very
much puzzled.
Henry Belton, the Single Tax millionaire, had come to Kansas City. He
was so diminutive as to be doll-like. He had to stand on a box to be
seen, when he spoke from the floor, at the banquet tendered him .
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