One night early last week in Manhattan half a hundred solid businessmen, bankers and journalists assembled on a Hudson River pier, piled aboard the night boat for Albany. Loud wails went up when it was discovered that the ship's store was closed, sending cigarets to a premium. There was steak for supper, however, and a visible abundance of Scotch & soda. Immediately ahead was the prospect of tumbling pouch-eyed off the boat at 7 a. m., to be whirled by bus to Schenectady. Ahead for the week was the prospect of a...
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