Sur commande, habituellement expédié sous 4 à 7 jours ouvrés
Early that morning, Luke Huber stood before the Pennsylvania Railroad
Station at Americus and fancied himself a latter-day crusader setting out to
reconquer from the infidels the modern Holy City of God. He had
graduated from the Harvard Law-School in the previous June. Now the
Republican brother-in-law of one of his classmates, having been elected
District-Attorney of corruptly Democratic New York, offered a place on his
staff to Luke as soon as Huber should meet successfully the necessary
formalities. This new public-prosecutor was to "clean up" the largest city in
the country, and Luke, as his assistant, was to aid in restoring to the
metropolis the ideals of the framers of the Constitution.
A slim young man, with a smooth face too rugged to be handsome, and
gray eyes too keen to be always dreaming, Huber stood erect, the wide
collar of his woolen overcoat turned up, for the spring lingered that year in
the valleys of Virginia, and the brim of his Alpine hat pulled over his nose.
He disregarded the group of boys waiting for the "up-train" that would
bring the Philadelphia morning newspapers to his native Pennsylvania
town, disregarded the grimy station-buildings, and looked toward the
river, where the morning mists were lifting and the cold sunshine was
creeping through to light the Susquehanna hills.