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 "Yes'm, I know it wasn't him. He might be a conductor, though.

"What did he look like?" asked Prue.

"I sorter forget, Miss. Didn't notice specially, Miss."

"Oh, then you wouldn't know him if you saw him again?"

"No, ma'am."

"I'm sorry because I wanted you to take this note to him."

The porter looked at the scrap of folded paper and rubbed his head reflectively.

"Well, Miss, you give it to me an' maybe I'd know him if I was to look mighty sharp."

Prue smiled.

"Very well, porter, you look sharp and refresh your memory. And if you should find him give him this. You may take the table away, please."

Wade was just slipping off into light slumber when the porter aroused him. He sat up and took the scrap of paper, leaning forward until the light fell on the penciled writing.