Our host, who was a stout old man having a
cosmopolitan face, on being asked the location of Trenton falls,
threw his head on one shoulder and, after inspecting us for a
few moments with a "remarkably knowing air," said, "There is no
such place around here." Then brushing the ashes from his cigar
and with a nod of satisfaction at his own astuteness, he
replied, "I have been in Utica many years and never heard the
name."
Finally one of those generous souls who always supply the
missing information appeared, just at the moment when we felt
like giving up in despair. He said, "I think there is a Trenton
falls some place hereabouts, but can't tell you where." Now the
"where" was the most important thing to us. Seeing the look of
disappointment spread over our faces, he quickly said, "I am
almost certain the tall man with the palm beach suit and straw
hat can tell you about its location."
Sherlock Holmes could not have traced a fleeing fugitive from
justice with more ardor than we the location of Trenton falls;
and like children playing a game in which the boys guess where
an object is hidden, we thought many times we were quite warm,
only to awaken to the stern realization that we were very cold.
When we summoned enough courage for an interview with the other
gentleman, it was with the feeling of a person who has an
appointment with the dentist.
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