Located in the checkroom in Union Station as I am, I see everybody that comes up the stairs.
Tony - who owned the magazine stand to my left-, studied the laws of probability because he liked to bet on the horse races. He claimed that he could calculate, according to his system, that if I held my job one hundred and twelve years more I would know everybody in the world by sight.
And I came to the theory that if you wait long enough in a big railroad station like Union Station you will see everybody that travels.
I have told my theory to lots of people but nobody ever did anything about it except Harry. He came in a little over three years ago and waited at the head of the stairs for the passenger from the 9:05 train.
I remember seeing Harry that first evening. He was not much more than a thin, anxious kid then. He was all dressed up and I knew he was meeting his girl and that they would be married twenty minutes after she arrived. There is no use in my trying to explain how I knew all this, but after you've watched people waiting at the head of the stairs for eighteen years as I have done, then it is easy.
Well, the passengers came up and I had to get busy. I did not look toward the stairs again until nearly time for the 9:18 and I was very surprised to see that the young fellow was still there.
She did not come on the 9:18 either, nor on the 9:40, and when the passengers from 10:02 had all arrived and left, Harry was looking pretty desperate. Pretty soon he came close to my window so I called out and asked him what she looked like.
You would have thought that I had checked her among the packages in my checkroom from the way he came over and half crawled through my window. “ She is small and dark,” he says, “and nineteen years old and very neat in the way she walks. She has a face,“ he says, thinking a minute “that has lots of spirit. I mean she can get mad but she never stays long. And her eyebrows come to a little point in the middle. She is got a brown fur, but may be she is not wearing it.”
I couldn't remember seeing anybody like that.
He showed me the telegram he'd received: ARRIVE THURSDAY. MEET ME AT STATION. LOVE LOVE, LOVE. -MAY. It was from Omaha, Nebraska.
“ Well, “ I finally say, “ why do not you phone to your home? She is probably called there if she got in ahead of you. “
He gave me a seek look, “ I have only been town two days. We were going to meet and then drive down south where I have got a job promised me. She- she has not any address for me. “ He touched the telegram.“ I got this general delivery.“
With that, he walked off to the head of stairs to look over the people from the 11:22.
When I came on duty the next day he was still there and came over as soon as he saw me.
“ Did she work anywhere? “ I asked.
He nodded. “ She was a typist. I telegraphed her former boss. All they say is that she left her job to get married. “
Well, that was how it began. Harry meet every train the next three or four days. Of course the railroad line made a routine checkup and the police look into the case. But nobody was any real help. I could see that they all figured that May had simply played a trick on him. But never believed that, somehow.
One day, after about two weeks, Harry and I were talking and I told him about my theory. “ If you will just wait long enough,” I say, “ you will see her coming up those stairs some day. “ He turned and looked at stairs as though he had never seen them before, while I went on explaining about Tony s figures on the Laws of Probability. Next day when I came to work Harry was behind the counter of Tony s magazine stand. He looked at me rather sheepishly and says, “ Well, I had to get a job somewhere, did not I? “
So he began to work as a clerk for Tony. We never spoke of May anymore and neither of us ever mentions my theory. But I noticed that Harry always saw every person who comes up to stairs.
Toward the end of the year Tony was killed in some argument over gambling, and Tony s widow left Harry incomplete charge of the magazine stand. And when she got married again some time later, Harry bought the stand from her.
He borrowed money and installed a soda fountain and pretty soon he had a very nice little business.
Then came yesterday. I heard a cry and a lot of things falling. The cry was from Harry and the things falling were a lot f dolls and the other things which he had upset while he was jumping over the counter. He run across and grabbed a girl not ten feet from my window. She was small and dark and her eyebrows came to a little point in the middle.
For a while they just hung there to each other laughing and crying and saying things without meaning, “ It was the bus station I meant- “ and he had kiss her speechless and tell her the many things he had done to find her. What apparently happened three years before was that May had come by bus, not by train, and in her telegram she meant “ bus station “, “ not “ railroad station “. She had waited at the bus station for days and had spent all her money trying to find Harry. Finally she got a job typing.
“ What? “ says Harry. “ Have you been working in town? All the time? “
She nodded.
“ Well, Heavens – did not you come down here to the station? “ He pointed across to his magazine stand. “ I have been there all the time. I owned it. I have watched everybody that came up the stairs –“
She began to look a little pale. Pretty soon she looked over at the stairs and said in a weak voice, “ I-I never came up the stairs before. You see, I went out of town yesterday on a short business trip – Oh Harry! “ Then she threw her arms around his neck and really began to cry.
After a minute she backed away and pointed very stiffly toward the north end of the station. “
Harry, for three years, three solid years, I have been right over there – working right in this very station, typing, in the office of the stationmaster.
The wonderful thing to me is how the Laws of Probability worked so hard so long until they finally got May to walk up those stairs of ours.