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diff --git a/old/62971-0.txt b/old/62971-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 79cce45..0000000 --- a/old/62971-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6276 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Adventures of a Woman Hobo, by Ethel Lynn - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Adventures of a Woman Hobo - -Author: Ethel Lynn - -Release Date: August 18, 2020 [EBook #62971] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A WOMAN HOBO *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - THE - ADVENTURES - OF A - WOMAN HOBO - - - BY - ETHEL LYNN, M.D. - -[Illustration] - - NEW YORK - GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1917, - BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY - - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CONTENTS - - - ONE - TWO - THREE - FOUR - FIVE - SIX - SEVEN - EIGHT - NINE - TEN - ELEVEN - TWELVE - THIRTEEN - FOURTEEN - FIFTEEN - SIXTEEN - SEVENTEEN - - - - - ONE - - _April 18th, 1908_, - CHICAGO, ILLINOIS - - - - - THE ADVENTURES OF A - WOMAN HOBO - - - - - ONE - - - _April 18, 1908. Chicago, Illinois._ - -“Doctor Lynn, you are in the incipient stage of tuberculosis. You should -return to California immediately.” - -That is what Dr. Graves said to me to-day and he is in a position to -know what he is talking about. But I can’t believe it! Why, I can do the -work of two women. Haven’t I supported myself since I was fifteen years -old, worked my way through Medical College and built up a city practice -by my own, unaided efforts? Besides, every one says I am the picture of -health. My five feet eight of energised muscle, my high colour, my -breadth of shoulder, all seem to give such a diagnosis the lie. - -Yet a still voice whispers in my heart, “It is true.” Since that last -severe attack of grippe the buoyancy has vanished from my step. Life has -become a drag. - -But then, why not? The last two years have been strenuous. Just two -years ago to-day San Francisco went down in earthquake and flames, -scattering my growing practice to the winds. And of course Dan’s -position went too. But we celebrated with an earthquake wedding, and it -was not long until my husband had worked out his great invention, and we -came here; he to gain financial backing for his project, and I to profit -by the abundance of clinical material in a great city. - -And then the panic of 1907 struck us. Why, the earthquake was nothing to -that. Poor Dan was crushed. How can I tell him of this new calamity? And -what will it profit to add to his burden, helpless as he is? For months -now, he has walked the streets looking for any kind of employment at any -wage, but none is to be had. This hopeless seeking, added to the -stunning blow of the collapse of his company and the deadening pressure -of debt incurred last fall when we borrowed to the utmost limit of all -our friends’ capacity in a frantic endeavour to save the invention, only -to lose money, company, invention—all in one universal crash—has -completely unnerved him. To see his wife forced into the depths through -his failure, even though that failure was no fault of his, has been gall -and wormwood to him. Those days when we pledged every pawnable article -in a dogged desire to hang on for just one week longer in the hope that -the tide would turn; when we moved from lodgings to lodgings, each -meaner and more squalid than the last, until the fathomless pit of hell -itself seemed reached in this slum; when I gave up my work in the -college where the wonderful experience gained was ample compensation -except to those driven by grim necessity to seek for any work that would -keep this vile tenement over our heads and put food in our mouths;—all -these things have left him a broken-hearted man. - -And there are many such. Months of idleness, a diet of bread and coffee, -all the horrors of shivering nights in the open or in vermin-infested -flop houses, the morning rush for the “help wanted” pages of the daily -papers, the standing in line for hours waiting to apply for a job—a -hundred men for a single position—would these things not take the heart, -nay, the very soul itself, out of a man? - -When I was discharged last month, losing my position because of a -general retrenchment, never shall I forget the scenes at the Public -Library when with scores of others I sought the protection of its -sheltering walls at early morning to thaw the night’s coldness out of my -half-frozen body, and search the papers for a possible chance of -employment. - -One young man in the huddled group interested me immensely. When the -doors swung open, he bounded up the stairs like an athlete, well in the -lead of the rushing horde who refused to wait for the elevator in their -frenzied scramble for the first chance at a paper and possible -employment. Well-dressed, palpably clean living and efficient, he was an -excellent type of the successful young business man. I could picture him -as a broker, in an insurance office or bank, or filling some responsible -position in a business house. But in the fall of many such houses, his -had evidently gone down to ruin and now the lad was beginning to feel -the pinch that comes from weeks of idleness. - -Morning after morning he appeared. His well-tailored suit gave way to a -misfit piece of shoddy; his hat was replaced by a cap which failed to -conceal his need of a hair-cut; his face became lean and haggard; no -longer was his expression one of energy and confidence. A three days’ -growth of beard on his jowls will take some of the confidence out of any -man when looking for employment. - -Then for days he disappeared. - -Came a day when I saw him. It was blizzard weather; a sleety rain was -carried on a high wind which swept through the city streets and wailed -and whistled round the entrance to the Library building. A gaunt figure -dragged its feeble way up the front steps to the semi-shelter of the -pillars; from a face, piteously thin, hollow eyes looked out, their -glance filled with a deep, an utter despair; a short coat pinned -together at the throat revealed the absence of a shirt or underwear; -through the cracks in the run-over shoes the bare flesh peered; wet to -the skin as he was, he shook in the icy blast like a dog in a wet sack. -As the doors swung wide at nine o’clock he did not lead the upward dash, -but half way up the stairs sank down, overcome by a choking fit of -coughing. - -I never saw him again. - -To live in a hovel; to drag my weary body for miles in search of work; -to cough my lungs out like the man next door; to be submerged like a -drowning rat in a sewer; this will be my life in Chicago. My eyes ache -from gazing at confined spaces; across the way the bare walls rise; down -the canyon streets I see the black ants of humanity crawl; overhead the -sky is leaden. - -Oh, my beautiful, my California! The whistle of the quail on the open -benches is calling me; the mating songs of the mocking birds vibrate in -my heart. Up the wide valley the warm wind sweeps, heavy with the -fragrance of blossoming trees; on the uplands brilliant masses of -flaming poppies and the silvery blue of slender lupines spread a feast -of colour for my weary eyes; oranges blaze out in golden glory against -the dark green foliage of the thrifty groves; the deep blue of the -cloudless sky seems infinite in depth; and in the purple distance the -white-capped peaks of San Bernardino and Grayback rear their lofty -heads. - - - - - TWO - - _April 27th, 1908._ - - - - - TWO - - - _April 27th, 1908._ - -Eureka, I’ve found it—the Great Idea—the craziest scheme that ever -popped into a woman’s head! - -We’re going home—back to California on a tandem bicycle. We’ll carry a -cooking and sleeping outfit with us, stop wherever the night finds us, -work when we can get it, and somehow, with God’s help, we’ll win -through. - -And it has come about in the strangest way. Dan got a chance to help a -man he knows clean out an old barn which is to be converted into a -garage, and in the loft along with the accumulation of years, they ran -across a tandem bicycle which is in excellent condition. The owner gave -it to Dan’s friend who thought he could sell it for something, even -though cycling is out of date. - -When Dan told me of the occurrence an intense longing for the open road -leading into the west surged over me, but I could see no way of securing -the wheel since our funds totalled less than five dollars. - -Then I said to myself, “There is a way. You must find it,” and -resolutely set my subconscious mind to the task. - -A day passed and another. Then over the threshold of consciousness came -the recollection of my one cherished possession—a beautiful opera cloak. - -On that fateful morning in April, 1906, after the rush to escape from -the tottering building, I found myself on the streets of San Francisco -in somewhat scanty attire, but folded warmly in my new biscuit-coloured -evening wrap. Many thanks I offered up for its protection in the chilly -days and nights that followed. Then, when conditions had returned -somewhat to normal, a good cleaning and remodelling restored almost its -pristine glory, and again it gave good service on the honeymoon. While -the panic was sweeping away all our possessions, I laid it aside, -resolved that it at least should be retained throughout the storm. - -But a sterner necessity compelled, so taking it from the drawer, I -wended my way to Oak Street and there held a colloquy with our friend’s -wife. The cloak caught her fancy at once, the bargain was struck, and I -trundled home my prize in triumph, to lean it carefully near the door of -our crowded quarters. - -Here at dusk, Dan, entering hurriedly, collided violently with an -outstanding pedal. He hopped agilely about on one foot, clasping his -left shin in an affectionate embrace. - -“What in hades is that thing I just fell over?” he demanded hotly. - -“That? Why, that’s our through ticket to California.” - -As I turned up the ineffective gas jet he recognised the graceful lines -of the machine. - -“Well, I’ll be darned!” he ejaculated. “So you got the blooming thing -from Dave, did you? How’d you manage it? And what do you mean, anyway, -by a ticket to California? You can’t be aiming to ride that -contraption.” - -“Don’t you dare to call my beautiful green tandem a contraption. You’ll -be glad enough to take your seat on a bicycle built for two as soon as -I’ve explained my perfectly scrumptious scheme to you. We’ll fix up a -light cooking outfit, tie our blankets on behind, and away we’ll glide -out into the west. We’ll work along the way and have lots of interesting -experiences; I’ll get rid of this tiresome cough, and after awhile we’ll -get home—home, do you hear? Back to California.” - -“Ride that thing to California! Why think of the country between here -and the coast; look at the desert, look at the Rocky Mountains, to say -nothing of the little old Coast Range. What do you think I am, anyhow, a -cross between a camel and a mountain goat?” - -“I’ll be sure you’re all goat if you butt into my cherished plan in that -rude fashion,” I responded gaily. “Never mind. Wait till your shin feels -better and you’ve had something to eat and we’ll talk it over.” - -I drew the table closer to our tiny stove and set out the meal while Dan -prepared for supper. - -“You remember my telling you about that poor little couple that I used -to see at the Public Library,” I began when we were comfortably settled, -“the ones that used to come in about two or three o’clock and go off in -a corner somewhere to eat a bit of lunch when the librarian wasn’t -looking? She’s been going down very fast for the last few weeks, hasn’t -been able to look for work at all, but waited in the library till he -came in, half crazy from the continued failure to find anything, and -then she’d try to comfort him while they shared the part of a loaf of -bread that she’d have hidden beneath her old cape. - -“When I was warming up in the library this morning she was coughing -terribly and I talked her into trying the charity hospitals again. It -seemed as if they must take her. You know she went a while back, but -couldn’t get in; she was an ambulatory case. He came in about noon, all -used up and they didn’t have even a crust of bread. - -“We started out and just on the edge of the sidewalk she had a -hemorrhage and before we could get the ambulance she was dead. I had -taken her in my arms, her little body was light as a feather.” My voice -failed. - -“I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he realised that she was -dead.... Dan, I can’t die as she did. Before I go I want to see the open -fields, feel the soft earth beneath my feet, draw a few breaths of real -air. Since I’ve lived in this slum I’m getting so I can’t even believe -in God.” - -“Ethel, you’re getting morbid. What’s all this talk about dying? You’re -simply upset over these people’s trouble.” - -“No, I’m not morbid, Danny boy. I hate to tell you, but Doctor Graves -says I have consumption and must go back to California at once if I’m to -get well.” - -“What utter nonsense. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever seen. It’s -ridiculous to talk of a strapping girl like you having consumption.” - -“I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’m afraid it’s true just the same. -I’ve had a good many symptoms ... but I won’t die like an animal in a -trap. I won’t die in this pest hole. I’ve a fighting chance and I’m -going to take it. We’ll ride that tandem west or die in the attempt. -When I think of the terrors of the journey, the miles and miles of -desert that I know so well, when I picture those tremendous mountains, -my heart almost fails me, but nothing, nothing can be so terrible, so -horrible to our souls as well as destructive to our bodies as these -loathsome slums. - -“We’ve got to get away from here, Dan. That’s all. And I believe we can -go to California on that wheel. I’ve heard of people making the journey -on foot, and in the early days whole families went with all sorts of -conveyances. What we need is a little nerve and grit like the pioneers.” - -Well into the night we argued, until Dan was finally silenced, if not -fully convinced. - -Then the question of equipment confronted us. A matter of a few tools -for repairs on the journey, an extra tire and other insurance against -accidents reduced our finances almost to zero. Also the problem of bulk -and weight is a serious matter when clothing, bedding, cooking utensils -and other necessaries must be carried on one small frame. - -As usual, the front seat of the bicycle is arranged for the woman, and -on the handle bars we have rigged a holder for the cooking outfit. This -consists of a heavy frying pan with the handle removed, a fair-sized -potato kettle with bail, useful for carrying water, nested inside, and -within that again a strong tin pan with close-fitting cover which may be -used as coffee pot, cocoa kettle or dish pan as occasion warrants. Dan -has a pair of long-handled pliers to remove these from the fire. Inside -the pan lie two tin plates and two tin cups for coffee; also a couple of -forks, a sharp steel knife, one large and two small spoons and a small -tin of salt. A cocoa can of sugar, one of coffee and one of cocoa fit -together very nicely and complete the collection. Directly on the rack -rest two heavy pieces of wire sharpened at the ends which are bent at -right angles to the body, forming prongs about nine inches long. When -the points of these prongs are driven into the ground so that the -lengths are parallel and about eight inches apart, a convenient little -support for frying pan and kettle is formed, under which a small fire -can be kindled to great advantage. - -Then Dan contrived a case to fit within the body of the frame, which, -with careful packing, holds a small emergency case, fitted with simple -instruments, bandages, etc., a few toilet necessities and a change of -hose and underwear for each. - -Behind the rear seat there is a large rack with leather straps for -bedding, which is our worst problem. Dan made a trip to a big machine -shop and returned triumphant with two large sheets of black oilcloth -which had covered electrical equipment. To each sheet I sewed a woollen -blanket, thus giving our future bed protection from damp above and -below. When an extra shirt for Dan and a waist for myself was added to -this bed roll, we found that we could just crowd in one soft old blanket -for extra covering. When I consider sleeping on the ground with a -combination oilcloth and woollen blanket below, and the two blankets -above, my teeth fairly chatter with anticipation. But even a frozen -death would be preferable to our present hopeless existence. - -Inasmuch as our rent is due next Sunday, May 3rd, we have decided to -start on that date. What the future holds, God alone knows, but at least -we will live in the open, which will compensate for much. - - - - - THREE - - _May 4th_, - IN A BIG BARN. - - - - - THREE - - - _May 4th. In a big barn._ - -We are off! - -Sunday dawned bright and clear and Dan and I were up with the first -light. The neighbourhood assembled to receive our few poor sticks of -furniture and household goods, for we deemed it best to give the things -to our poverty-stricken neighbours rather than sell them for a few -pennies to some secondhand dealer. - -Our friends think us insane, as well they may, but crazy or no, we will -see this thing through. - -We surely made a picture at the start. Dan’s blue eyes were alight with -eagerness, his fair hair tousled, while his sturdy body showed to good -advantage in sweater, corduroys and cap. I wore a dark shirtwaist, short -plaid skirt, blue sweater and straw sailor hat. At the last moment we -fastened a small parcel of groceries atop the bedding roll—a bit of -bacon, a loaf of bread, a pat of butter and one or two other odds and -ends. Altogether, the machine was well loaded. - -Then, followed by the cheers of the crowd who were busy carrying away -the contents of our room, and accompanied by a horde of shoving, -shouting urchins, we made our way up the street. At the corner of -Division Street we paused to weigh ourselves and wheel, and found the -combination tipped the scales at just five hundred pounds. - -Pushing on to a clear bit of pavement, we mounted and were off toward -the west side. Both Dan and I had ridden bicycles at earlier periods in -our career, and had spent a little time in Lincoln Park practising on -the tandem, but we were far from being expert riders. The double -steering gear which should enable the man to help the woman steady the -front wheel was broken, so, loaded as we were, I found the task of -steering a difficult one. - -As we wobbled our serpentine way through the streets, fortunately nearly -empty at that early hour, it seemed to me that this was the strangest -nightmare that ever vexed the soul of woman. There was a weird beauty in -the morning light, the breath of freedom in the gentle breeze. The -spirit of adventure rode with us. I had a feeling of detachment from -earthly things while realising to the full the perils and difficulties -of the venture. - -An ash can in the street caught my eye. With incredible accuracy I -headed for it. - -“Hi!” cried Dan, “look where you’re going.” - -“Good gracious,” I answered desperately, “that’s just what I’m trying -not to do.” - -Bang! Quite a spill, but no harm done luckily. - -When we reached Humboldt Park, we decided to take a short rest. Propping -our machine against the curb, we sat on a bench beneath a tree. While -aimlessly poking the litter at its base with my toe, I saw something -glitter. - -“Look, Dan!” I exulted. “See what I’ve found. Talk of manna in the -wilderness.” I held up a silver dollar, a half and two dimes. “I feel -sure it is an omen.” - -“Yes, an omen of fresh eggs for breakfast to-morrow morning,” replied -Dan prosaically. - -Once again we were off. The day wore on. Streets gave way to dusty roads -full of ruts, into which the wheel appeared possessed to stagger. Dust -rose; sweat poured; our throats ached with unquenchable thirst. My arms -seemed wrenched from their sockets. Human endurance reached its limit as -the sun set. - -Wearily we searched for a camping place. Finally, in a grassy hollow, -screened from the road by trees, we unpacked our equipment. While Dan -took the potato kettle to a near-by house for water, I set up our wire -rack and kindled a tiny fire beneath. - -After a meal which we were almost too tired to eat, we spread our scanty -bedding on the ground and composed ourselves for slumber. An owl settled -on a branch near our heads and surveyed us with amazement. Back and -forth he flew, studying the strange intruders from every angle. Then -with a “hoot” of protest and derision, he winged away to attend to the -business of the evening. - -“Ugh, this ground is hard,” grunted Dan. - -“And none too warm,” thought I, but neither cold nor discomfort could -prevail for long against our utter exhaustion. - - -I sat up with a start. A grey day was breaking; the trees rustled in a -wind that moaned and muttered with chilly breath. Big drops of rain beat -on my face. - -“Quick, Dan, get up!” I cried to the snoring partner of my dreams. “It’s -going to pour down rain in a few minutes.” - -We scurried around, collecting and packing our scattered belongings, -then decided to make a dash for a big barn which stood not far down the -road at the foot of a hill, for the rain was beginning to fall heavily. -Reaching the highway, we sprang to saddle and sped down the hill. With a -sickening lurch the front wheel struck a slippery patch of mud at the -bottom, the hind wheel skidding sideways. The heel of my right shoe -caught in the pedal shaft and in a trice was torn from my foot and sent -spinning ten feet away. Dan went sprawling on the wet earth, while I -hopped awkwardly along, bruising my shins, but clinging desperately to -the handle bars with both hands. - -Dan picked himself up and came to my assistance. - -“Pick up my heel, please,” said I, standing like a stork on one foot. -Dan stared at me dazedly. “Pick up my heel,” I cried impatiently. He -reached for my foot. “Do you think I’m a horse waiting to be shod? Don’t -you see the heel of my shoe lying over there in the mud?” - -With that he retrieved the loosened heel and we hurried through the -steady downpour to the barn. The owner came out and, having listened to -our tale of woe, gave us some shingle nails to repair the torn shoe and -bade us build a fire beneath a shed to prepare breakfast. Dan fulfilled -the augury of the previous day by the purchase of some fresh eggs, and -soon we were feasting on bacon and eggs and pints of steaming coffee. - -Good? Why nectar and ambrosia were stale beside it. - -After the meal, we repaired to the barn loft and, easing our weary bones -into the prickly depths of hay, awaited the end of the storm. - - - - - FOUR - - _May 6th, 1908._ - - - - - FOUR - - - _May 6th, 1908._ - -Dan found work! Only a day and a half, but a few hours were better than -nothing, and gave us hope. - -The sun was setting as a wagon rattled up the road with Dan dangling his -feet over the endgate. - -“Come on, Ethel,” he cried, “our friend here has offered us a place in -his barn and plenty of dry corn cobs for the fire.” - -I sprang up and we loaded the wheel into the wagon. Soon the driver -entered a lane which ended in a large barnyard, and as Dan began to help -with the team, I unloaded the cooking outfit. - -The farmer was pulling some grain sacks from a large tub in the wagon -bed. - -“Here’s plenty of fish,” he said. “Just pitch in and help yourselves.” - -Our eyes bulged in astonishment at sight of the silvery heaps that -filled the tub. - -“Where on earth did you get so many?” gasped Dan. - -“South o’ the road where the river has overflowed its banks. The boys -are heaving them out with pitchforks and spears and even bare handed. -Take all you want. I’ve three times as many as Sarah Jane and I can -eat.” - -Nothing loath, I lifted out sufficient for our needs, and as Dan set to -cleaning the fish, I collected corn cobs and kindled a tiny fire beneath -the rack. - -A short, roly-poly woman bustled out of the back door of the small but -comfortable farmhouse and approached us. - -“Dear me, dear me, a lady tramp!” she exclaimed. “Bless us, if they -haven’t gone to running in pairs like animals entering the ark.” - -Catching sight of the tandem still loaded with part of our equipment, -she paused in amazement, pushing back her red calico sunbonnet and -revealing wonderful masses of snow-white curls. - -“But you’re not a tramp after all, are you? Tramps don’t ride bicycles. -What a disappointment! I’ve always wanted to meet a lady tramp. But what -are you up to anyway? Must be something interesting. You look -interesting.” - -I assured her that we were, indeed, up to something interesting, just -how interesting we would probably fully realise later on. - -“So you’re really going back to that strange California where it is -always summer? What awful monotony. Come fall, I’m always glad, for I -feel that summer has been here plenty long enough.” - -She seated herself on the wagon tongue. - -The barnyard world was settling for the night with much cackling, -grunting, lowing and stamping. Under a near-by shed a flock of fowls was -clucking and fussing as they sought the highest perches. - -“Look at those chickens, now. Aren’t they just like humans?” demanded -our visitor. “I sit out here and watch them by the hour.” - -“Caw, caw-rr,” croaked a haughty grenadier of a hen, taking a sharp peck -at a handsome young pullet who had endeavoured to perch on the topmost -roost. - -“Hear what she says? I’ll tell you,” the little woman interpreted -eagerly. - -“‘Get right away from here, you impudent, upstart dominick. Go back with -the lower clawsses where you belong and don’t try to crowd in here with -your betters.’ - -“Do you know, we got a woman living on the other side of town who’s the -perfect spit and image of that old hen. There, hear her talking? - -“‘These nobodies try to push in everywhere.’ - -“Now the old rooster is a cuttering.... ‘She seems rather a nice little -thing, but of course, as you say, she’ll never be able to attain to any -position in life, but really for one of her social standing, she’s quite -chick.’ - -“Now the old hen’s talking again. ‘Fowls of quality can’t be too careful -nowadays. These plebeian climbers are everywhere.’” - -The haughty Plymouth Rock settled herself and preened her feathers with -the conscious air of duty well performed, while the little woman laughed -gaily. - -“Now she feels that she has maintained all the traditions of her class. -Oh, yes, they have classes in the chicken yard just as in the American -nation. I was thinking of getting a good likeness of that hen and -sending it to the _Chicago American_ so’s they could print her picture -on the society page. - -“You know, I find lots of interesting characters out here. There’s a hog -over yonder. He’s stuffed so full he can’t swallow another mouthful, yet -he keeps wallowing over the food so the shoats can’t get any, and they -stand back and first one tries to get a bite and then another, when if -they’d all rush him at once they’d get aplenty. When he grunts like that -he’s telling them to be contented and industrious little pigs and that -if they just start rooting early every morning, after a while they’ll be -eminent and respected like he is and able to wallow in the feed trough. - -“And Father’s got the big kettle all ready, and Saturday he’s going to -butcher him.” - -“Hi, Serjane, I’ve got the fish ready for the pan and there you set on -the wagon tongue aletting the fire go out.” It was the querulous voice -of the old man. - -Sarah Jane hurried into the kitchen as Dan placed a fine mess of fish -over the coals. We had just gotten well started to eating when the back -door flew open with a bang and the little woman scudded toward us. - -“Oh, I’m too late,” she cried breathlessly. “You’re already eating. Now -why didn’t I ask you to eat with us before? Why? Why? Why?” - -Each word was a tiny explosion. - -“Just because I didn’t think! Didn’t think! That’s what ails the world. -We don’t think, won’t think and can’t think. Now, which do you consider -is the worst?” - -“The _won’t thinks_ are the worst to my mind,” I assured her gravely, -“because the _don’t thinks_ get waked up now and then, and after a while -the _can’t thinks_ will grow some more brains, so that there is a chance -of them getting started right, but as for the fellow who just naturally -refuses to think at all, there is not much hope for him.” - -“Dear me, dear me. I would just love to talk to you. You must come into -the sitting room as soon as you are done eating and spend the evening -with me. I’ll hurry and wash the dishes.” - -She spun around and scurried into the house. We hastily finished our -meal and prepared sleeping quarters in the hay mow. - -Then, as darkness fell, the old man ushered us into the neat living -room. The soft rays from a large lamp glimmered on the walnut furniture -and illumined the family groups upon the walls. Braided rugs, round and -oval, were scattered about the floor and a cheerful blaze in an -open-front stove radiated a pleasant welcome in the chill of evening. In -a few moments our hostess was extracting all the details of our journey -with the neatness and skill of long experience. - -After a while Dan rose with a sigh of weariness. “Come, Ethel, we’d -better hit the hay. I’ve got to work to-morrow, you know.” - -“Hay—hit the hay! No such a thing. Go right into the spare room and make -yourselves uncomfortable.” Sarah Jane rushed to open the bedroom door. - -I explained our plans for roughing it and said we should rest very -comfortably in the hay mow. - -“Dear me, dear me, you should always put off till to-morrow what you can -get out of doing to-day. You can do aplenty of roughing it when you get -to Wyoming. Go on to bed now and enjoy a good spring mattress while you -have the chance.” - -Daylight came all too soon, with Sarah Jane summoning us to a breakfast -of cornmeal mush and cream, fried perch, buckwheat cakes with maple -syrup and cups of amber coffee. - -“Let me know if you find anything that I can do to help along. I’d like -to be of more use in the world than I can be hibernating here,” she -called after us as we pedalled down the lane. - -I can still see her merry smile as she leaned over the gate, vigorously -waving her sunbonnet in farewell. - - - - - FIVE - - _May 7th_, - AT CRAB-APPLE HEDGE. - - - - - FIVE - - - _May 7th. At Crab-Apple Hedge._ - -We are in a new world. All day long we press forward, sometimes riding -and again on foot, for the roads are rough and often muddy; and on every -hand the beauties of an Illinois spring unfold before our enraptured -gaze. - -With the western spring I am familiar. In March and April acres on acres -of greasewood blossoms and wild lilacs were all swaying in the ocean -breeze that sweeps the wide reaches of our Southern California valleys -each afternoon. A wild spirit of freedom, an almost Pagan joyousness and -gaiety is manifest, which speaks of primitive things and appeals to the -elemental essence of the soul. But here Nature approaches in more tender -intimacy. Little love flowers snuggle on her breast. The whole earth -palpitates with a sweet warmth and promise of beauties to follow. - -On our right stretches a crab-apple hedge in full bloom, a veritable -glory of beauty and fragrance, which crowns a ridge whence rolling acres -fall gradually away, revealing, here and there, farmhouses surrounded by -kitchen gardens and groups of fruit trees, billowy plumes of soft -colour, some outlined by the tender green of spring. The smoke of -noontime fires lazily ascends from the chimneys, the cackle of hens and -other barnyard sounds come faintly on the breeze. My heart aches with -the homing impulse. My mind turns to the experiences of the past few -days. - -Wednesday the air was clear and balmy, and as night approached we -stopped beneath a bridge where thick trees screened our camp from view. -The wires were driven in the ground, the modest campfire lighted, and -soon the delicious aroma of boiling cocoa and grilled steak whetted -appetites already ravenous. - -Our hunger appeased, we were settling for the night, when I was seized -with foreboding of a coming storm. Dan laughed and called it a crazy -notion and beyond all reason. But the feeling increased in intensity -until I insisted on seeking the shelter of some building. Dan acquiesced -reluctantly, but by the time we had repacked and loaded the wheel, night -had fallen. - -At the nearest farm we asked permission to sleep in the barn, but were -abruptly denied. At the next house the inmates refused to answer our -knock. - -“Well, what are you going to do now? Walk all night?” expostulated Dan. - -On our left a dark mass appeared in the darkness and proved to be the -ruins of a race track grandstand. As I stumbled beneath the tiers of -seats, hoping for some promise of protection, a man leaped up almost at -my feet. - -I sprang back, startled. - -“Come,” said the stranger, “I know the way.” - -As though in a trance I followed him, my hand guiding the wheel, while -Dan pushed behind. We immediately came on a narrow board walk at right -angles to the road. The man led on into the thick darkness, the two of -us following blindly after. On and on we travelled as though impelled by -some force outside our own volition. A huge building loomed on our -right. Silently we skirted it, the clop, clop of our feet on the boards -giving way to noiseless progress over grassy turf. - -Suddenly the front wheel of the tandem struck some obstacle, and in the -deepened gloom I could faintly discern the outlines of another building, -the steps of which were before me. These I mounted, preceded by our -strange guide, who said not a word, but rapped loudly on the door. - -From some remote region came a scuffling, then the bang of an inner -door, and down a long hall shuffled a tall, lean figure wrapped in a -trailing dressing gown. An oil lamp in its hand gave forth a yellow -gleam, which lighted up the old-fashioned interior and shone through the -glass panelled door. The old man, for such it was, peered through the -glass at our mysterious attendant, and then, after prolonged fumbling -with lock and bolts and chain, slowly swung open the door. - -“And who might yez be?” he inquired in a rich brogue, directing a keen -Irish eye on Dan and me. - -We explained our situation as briefly as possible and asked for the -shelter of some outbuilding for the night. - -“Faith, and ye’re wilcome to the house. Sure and it’s large enough for -tin and but three av us to fill it.” - -As he spoke there came a tapping and a little old woman with snapping -black eyes skipped like a bird to his side. - -“An’ indade they shall not come inside this house the night. Murdthered -in me bed I will not be.” - -“Hush, Katie,” querulously chided the ancient. “This is no time for to -be exercisin’ yer conthrary timper.” - -But the little old woman braced herself in the doorway as though to defy -the world, and I hastened to state that we only wanted to sleep in the -barn. - -“Well, if so ye will. Arrah, the house is open save for this old -spalpeen.” With that he shuffled off to fetch a lantern. - -I turned to thank our guide, but he had disappeared. - -Soon we were inside the big barn that we had passed coming in. The -wavering rays of the lantern disclosed huge, cob-webbed recesses, rows -of empty stalls, a tumble-down carriage, and near the sliding door, a -small hillock of well packed hay. Otherwise the place was empty. On this -hay we made our bed and were soon asleep. - -I was awakened by the drumming of rain on the roof. Another wet morning -was upon us. I leaned over to ask Dan what he thought of my “crazy -notion” now. But he was sound asleep, so I conquered my feminine impulse -and decided to get up and scout a dry place to cook breakfast. - -“Ow-wow!” My bare foot splashed into a lake of cold water which, -concealed by a layer of floating straw and chaff, covered the floor of -the old barn to a depth of eighteen inches. - -My startled howl brought Dan up with a jerk. Hastily we dressed and -moved our footgear and bedding to the top of a grain bin. As we perched -forlornly on this refuge in a watery waste, the door opened and the -little old lady of the night before came in. - -Perhaps we appeared less murderous by the light of day, or what is more -likely, her “conthrary timper” was less in evidence when acting on her -own initiative; at any rate, after a short chat, she cordially invited -us in to breakfast. - -Then followed a most interesting day. Jim, her husband, who was -unusually well read, struck up an immediate friendship with Dan, and -while waiting for the rain to cease, Katie and I visited in the kitchen. - -There were but three in the family: the old man, his wife and the -feeble-minded chore man who had brought us to their dwelling the -previous night. Outside of an acre of orchard, a chicken run and a small -garden, their great holdings of hundreds of acres were rented to -tenants, one of whom supplied them with milk and butter. - -The couple had emigrated from the old country when very young; had met -and loved on the long voyage, and were married soon after their arrival. - -James Grogan was a remarkable man. Keen, shrewd, ambitious, he worked -and saved and invested with all the energy and acumen that has enabled -so many of his race to rise in the world. He homesteaded the original -Illinois farm and to these hundred and sixty acres he constantly added. -His passion was to leave his children educated and rich. He himself had -learned to read and write when past the age of thirty; the struggle -upward had been a hard one; his children should be spared all this. - -And eleven babies were born to them. With bitter words old Katie painted -pictures of the heartbreaking toil; the lack of ordinary conveniences; -the goading tongue of her lord and master driving her on through the -years while acre was added to acre, and the herds increased, and no barn -was large enough to hold the abundant crops. Modern farm implements were -purchased in plenty, but there was no money for the simplest household -conveniences; outbuildings were snug and well built; but the home itself -was ramshackle and poor. - -It has been said that in earlier days the size of a man’s farm could -often be estimated by the number of wives’ tombstones in his lot in the -cemetery. But it was not true in this case. Katie had lived, but her -babies died. - -Her love for her husband turned to a cold hate, but still the babies -came. Ten had been born and ten had died before Jim realised that Katie -needed as good care as his animals—that she was more than any -animal—that she was, in truth, the mother of those children—his -children—whom he worshipped—and lost. - -So the youngest boy was born and grew—a slender, delicate, brilliant -lad—and all the facilities for education, and all the riches of cattle -and horses and broad acres were his to command. - -He was educated for the Bar. And while he was in college and while he -studied law, his father and he built up a wonderful library and still -more wonderful plans for the future, when James Grogan, Junior, should -be a great jurist and statesman with a reputation nation wide. - -Abruptly his health failed. Lack of vitality, his inheritance from his -mother, made itself felt. He went to California and there died. - -James Grogan, Senior, brought home that library and installed it in the -old ramshackle house with its addition here and lean-to there. And here, -alone, he read each volume. - - - - - SIX - - _Monday, May 11th_, - IN THE MUD. - - - - - SIX - - - _Monday, May 11th. In the Mud._ - -To you, and you alone, little diary, will I confess a sense of deep -discouragement. Mud! Mud! Seas of mud and oceans of rain! - -We have been out eight full days and have covered but sixty-five miles. -The appetite that I have developed is truly amazing. As I sit by a -fence, waiting for Dan to investigate those streaks of ooze and slush -called roads, I’m hungry enough to eat Limburger cheese, which is saying -a good deal for me. Yet I finished a hearty breakfast but an hour or so -ago. I am ravenous, morning, noon and night, and Dan is nearly as bad. -When I compare the size of our appetites with the cost of bread and eggs -at farmhouses, the dollar and a half that Dan sweat like a stevedore to -earn, looks woefully inadequate. - -Saturday afternoon we cycled through the town of Morris, stopping long -enough to purchase a few supplies. Two miles from town we passed a neat -farmhouse, and just beyond found a most beautiful meadow surrounded by -trees. The long shadows of late afternoon lay across the thick green -sward which rose in a gentle slope. - -Delighted with the spot, we cooked our evening meal and lay down to -enjoy the glory of the moon, which, floating above the trees, bathed the -earth with its soft radiance. The peaceful chorus of night insects and -the gentle whisper of the wind in the tree tops soon lulled us to sleep. - -I dreamed that we were riding over a long bridge that suddenly gave way -with a deafening crash, precipitating us into the rushing stream below. -I wakened with a start. Alas, it was more than a dream. The night was -like ink. Lightning crackled, thunder crashed and rolled, rain descended -in torrents and a fine young rivulet was bounding down the hillside and -pouring directly over our bed. - -Bewildered, we stumbled around in the darkness, collecting such clothing -as came to hand. - -“Come on,” cried Dan, “let’s make for the big barn up the road.” - -Guided by the flashes of lightning, we hastened across the field and -approached the barn from above. A momentary gleam disclosed a black -opening before me. I made a dive for the shelter within. Followed a -sickening sense of falling, and I spreadeagled onto some yielding, hairy -object which heaved and scrambled madly with much blowing and bellowing. -Thus I was made aware that my unseemly arrival had disturbed the gentle -slumbers of a cow. At least I sincerely hoped that the creature belonged -to the gentler sex as I backed out of the stall with more haste than -elegance. - -Dan, meanwhile, had located the hayloft and, guided by his voice, I -groped my way to him, and notwithstanding the stimulating companionship -of barley-beards and thistles, contrived to snatch a few hours’ sleep. - -The rain ceased about daybreak, and we returned to the scene of the -evening before to collect our scattered utensils and spread the soaked -bedding in the brilliant sunshine. Most of our recent purchases were -ruined, the bread especially being reduced to a soggy mass, so Dan -sought the farmhouse to renew our supply. He returned rather indignant -with less than a half loaf of bread, for which he had paid ten cents. It -then developed that the bacon had disappeared and our dozen eggs were -badly scrambled, so Dan reluctantly went back to buy eggs and bacon if -possible. - -In a few minutes he was back empty-handed, angry right through. The -farmer had demanded twenty-five cents for a half dozen eggs, which had -cost us twenty cents a dozen in Morris the day before, and when Dan -declined to buy had grown insulting. - -We made coffee and were drinking it when a roughly dressed man -approached. - -“Say, folks,” he began, “you better clear out of here. The boss up there -is hitchin’ up a team to go to Morris after the constable. I hearn him -vow to have you run in for trespassin’ on his land.” - -We looked at one another in alarm. Hastily swallowing the last crumbs of -bread, we rolled up our wet blankets and made ready for the road, the -stranger doing all he could to help. Once on the highway we found riding -out of the question because of the mud, and what to do we didn’t know, -especially as our friend said that the constable would be glad enough to -arrest us for the fee. - -“But if your wife don’t mind,” he concluded, “you might come down to the -river with me. We’re choppin’ wood down there and the bunch’ll hide you -till the constable gets tired nosin’ around and goes back to town.” - -No sooner said than done. The men took the wheel, and away we went -through the underbrush to the woodchopper’s shack. There were four men -there, washing clothes, shaving and attending to the usual Sunday -chores. Our adherent explained the situation and they all hustled around -to make us comfortable. One built up the fire to dry our things, another -hid the wheel, one went out to the road to keep watch, while the fourth -arranged a place of concealment for us in the rear of the room. Hardly -were the preparations complete, when the watcher reported the coming of -the farmer and the constable. - -We ducked to cover, the door was shut, and after a bit we heard our -hosts parleying with the newcomers and demonstrating their skill in the -art of graceful lying. Soon they announced that the coast was clear, but -advised us to remain in retirement for an hour or two at least, and, to -pass the time, suggested a trip on the river. One got out some fishing -tackle, another dug bait, while a third cut rods from the willows. We -all followed a winding path to the river where row boats were tied, and -stepping in, were off for a little fishing excursion. - -The hours flew by on the wings of delight, while the men fished in cool, -shady coves or rowed up stream with the oars glinting in the sun. We had -a good catch, when dark shadows athwart our course and a gusty breeze -that set the water rippling proclaimed the coming of another shower. - -Returning to the shanty, the men prepared the glistening spoils, and -before the savoury dish was ready for the table, the rain was pounding -on the roof. - -As the day waned, I became the prey of serious misgivings, but about an -hour before sundown the rain slackened and four of the men declared -their intention of going to town to see a show, adding that they did not -expect to return till morning. Our first acquaintance cooked a hearty -meal, then rigged a blanket curtain across one end of the room, and -warmed and dried and fed, we retired to rest, giving thanks for the -spirit of true brotherhood which often manifests itself in unlikely -places. - -Next morning our benefactor packed a substantial lunch and started us on -our journey. But so far we have made poor progress. - -Dan has just come up with the news that our one chance to proceed lies -in following the railroad track, so I must up and away. - - -Well, we are making a little better time along the track than in the -slush of the road, though this method of travel is far from ideal. We -push the wheel between the rails, and the poor thing goes bump, bump, -bump over the ties, while the cooking outfit jingles and clinks and the -whole load threatens to fall off. When nerves can stand the strain no -longer, we try the path at the side of the track. This we essayed to -ride, but a shelving ledge where the path almost disappeared nearly sent -us down the embankment, so we trundle the wheel and walk. The pedal -barks my shins and I feel like saying something wicked. I hear Dan -muttering under his breath and fully second what he is thinking. Just -when I can no longer endure the pangs of starvation, he declares that it -is time to stop for lunch. Sweet sound! - -Luncheon over, I throw myself face down on the gravelled siding. When I -consider the lack of money, the scarcity of work, the wretched roads and -never-ending storms, my beloved California seems very far away. - - - - - SEVEN - - _Thursday, May 14th._ - - - - - SEVEN - - - _Thursday, May 14th._ - -Before the open door of a “side-door Pullman” I sit at ease on our -bedding roll with my diary on my knees, watching the Iowa prairie billow -past. What a relief to view the stretches of gluey, sloppy road, serene -in the knowledge that for the present at least we are free from its -sticky toils. - -We lunched last Monday beside the Stockdale siding and while packing our -belongings preparatory to another tussle with the bike, a freight train -pulled in. The train crew surveyed us with vast interest, and as the -engine backed slowly past, the engineer leaned far out of the cab -window. - -“Whither away?” he queried. - -“California or bust,” yelled Dan. - -The long train jarred to a stop on the siding. A brakeman appeared and -entered into conversation. - -“It must be pretty fierce to ride a wheel through that mud,” he -volunteered. - -“You bet it is,” agreed Dan, “and the track isn’t much better. If I bark -any more hide off my shins, I’ll have to buy a pair of crutches.” - -With a shriek and a roar a passenger train thundered through. The -freight pulled slowly off the siding. The engineer leaned out as before, -his big, good-natured mouth stretched in a broad grin, his right arm -swinging with a scooping motion. - -“Get aboard! Get aboard!” he shouted. - -Dan and I exchanged glances. With one accord we jumped for the wheel -which stood loaded for the start, and ran it along beside the track. Car -after car groaned past. The caboose appeared. A brakeman leaned from the -step and grasped the handle bars, the conductor lent a hand, and in a -moment our old machine was being hoisted upon the platform while Dan and -I scrambled up the steps. - -Followed a detailed account of our aims and adventures, which was -listened to with keen attention. The train crew held a council of war to -determine the best means of procedure. About half way up the train was -situated an empty box car, and to this we were transferred as soon as -darkness had fallen. We spread our blankets on the floor and composed -ourselves for sleep. - -But alas and alack! A new crew had come aboard, who had chosen our -resting place for a bumper and appeared to be switching all the cars on -the middle division with it. We would enter a siding with much grinding -and jarring, coming to a stop with a jolt. The train would be uncoupled -in the middle, our car would advance with increasing speed, -then—whang—we would bump the standing gondolas, the train would buckle -at each coupling with a resounding thumping, the engine would jerk us -backward, and we were off to repeat the performance. - -Towards morning the door of the box car slid softly open and several men -piled in. Dan asked them what they wanted and one replied, “It’s all -right, Bo. We’re west-bound bundle stiffs same as yourself.” - -Great was their amazement when the morning light revealed the presence -of a woman. About sunrise, two jumped out to “rustle some grub” while -the engine stopped for water. - -The train was moving out and we had given them up, when here they came, -helter skelter, and leaped aboard the speeding car. One had some slices -of meat and bread in a newspaper, while the other carried part of a loaf -of bread. The food was unhesitatingly divided among the five of us and -was greatly appreciated. - -The scant meal finished, we settled down to talk. I was amazed at the -mentality displayed by the smallest fellow, a member of the I. W. W. He -seemed conversant with all the questions of the day, and expressed in -excellent language clear cut opinions on industrial subjects that were -both novel and startling. They were all workers, but jobs were scarce -where they came from, so they were going west in the hope of bettering -their condition. The fact that thousands were at that moment travelling -in the opposite direction, impelled by self-same conditions, failed to -deter them. - -One was a big, husky chap with rugged, honest features and the true -brown eyes of a Collie. His story interested me greatly. - -Born among collieries, he was driven to work as a breaker boy at a very -early age by the wretched poverty of his parents. After several years of -deadening toil at a time when he should have been in school, he drifted -away to join the great army of migratory workers. He worked on a -threshing machine while the harvest was in progress, and at its close -what little money he had been able to save was consumed while searching -for another job. Perhaps he got work with pick and shovel in some -construction gang, but the contractor’s system of low wages, high board -bills, charges for physician’s care—which most do not receive—and the -like, kept him destitute. He called at an employment office, where he -paid two dollars for a job, was worked just long enough to pay for -transportation, board and monthly fees, then discharged without wages, -his employer and the agent dividing up the original fee. From coast to -coast he wandered, sweating in the dust and heat of summer through long -hours of racking labor, in order to escape starvation in the idle months -of winter. - -His eyes grew dark and wistful as he shyly confessed his one love -affair. He had secured employment in a little lumber mill and made such -a good impression on the boss, who was also the owner, that he was taken -to board in his own home. Here the poor fellow got his first idea of -what home life might mean. He fell in love with the daughter of the -house, who seemed to reciprocate, but before they could enter into any -formal engagement the lumber trust put the mill out of business, ruining -the owner, who was forced to leave that part of the country. - -Try as he would, the young man could secure no steady employment and -marriage without such foundation was out of the question. - -“I saw enough of getting married on nothing when I was a boy,” he -concluded. “Wages are set for single men, I reckon. And after a bit a -fellow can’t earn a living for his family, so the wife and kiddies have -to rustle out and work. Easy enough for them to get a job,” he added -bitterly. “Many a time I’ve seen kids doing work that I’d been glad to -get. But they can beat a man all out at working cheap. They got to work -cheap or starve. I may be a good-for-nothing bundle stiff, but I’ve -never got so low as to live off the work of little children.” - -“Our good business men are not so finicky,” broke in the I. W. W. “A big -profit looks good to them. If it comes from the coined sweat and blood -of women and children, so much the better. Yes, women are cheaper than -men, and kids are cheaper than women. After a bit they’ll get machines -that are cheaper than kids, and then the brats can rot in the slums for -all they care.” - -“Why not let the people in general own the machines and run them for use -instead of for profit? Then the men could do the work, the women could -stay at home and the children go to school.” Thus spoke the quiet member -of the trio. - -“Shut up, you crazy socialist!” exclaimed the I. W. W. “You fellows -won’t do anything but vote. You leave it to us. We’re the boys who’ll -fix the machines, all right, all right. Yes, and the plutes, too.” - -I remembered the many I. W. W. signs and notices that were posted along -the way; the groups of men beneath the water tanks who listened eagerly -to the harangues of such as he. Some even had told me that they had -given up liquor because it blunted their faculties at a time when brains -were needed in the workers’ fight against the capitalists. I seemed to -hear a muttering as of a gathering storm; perhaps in the days preceding -the French Revolution a similar murmuring rose. - -There are so many like my dark-eyed acquaintance. He lost touch with his -sweetheart, lost hope, lost ambition and now drifts aimlessly about the -country in search of a bare subsistence. - -It is he and the millions of his class who quarry the stone and hew the -timber for our cities; they build the roadbed and lay the tracks for -swiftly turning Pullman wheels; they mine the coal that warms our -dwellings; they harvest the wheat that nourishes our bodies; without -their labour industry would cease. - -Yet life to them holds out no hope, no promise; their meagre earnings -forbid the thought of marriage; their only home is some saloon; their -final rest the potter’s field. - - -About ten o’clock a trainman poked his head inside the door. - -“Hey, clear out, you fellows. This is no place for you when we enter the -yard. Better beat it.” - -The hoboes bade us adieu and sprang from the car. The brakeman leaped in -beside us. - -“We finish our run at the next stop,” he said. “The engineer will slow -down at the outskirts of town and you jump off and hike out. You’ll find -the main road over to the north.” - -We thanked him warmly for his kindness and made ready to follow his -advice. Soon the train slowed to a mere crawl. Dan leaped down and ran -alongside, I swung out the wheel, which he seized, and in an instant I -was standing beside him. - -Waving farewell to the train crew, who had all turned out to see us off, -we struck out for the main road. The straggling outskirts of a -good-sized town lay before us. - -“Tell you what,” I remarked after we had traversed some distance. -“Suppose we stop in the residence section and look for work. I’ll offer -to do washing or cleaning by the day, and you can cut the lawn, wash the -automobile or something.” - -Dan replied with a snort of righteous indignation. “Ever since you were -bit by the crazy bug and started out to be a lady hobo you have lost all -your natural pride, Ethel. It was bad enough for me, a high-class -electrical engineer with a paid-up union card in my pocket, to stoop to -the job of a common labourer as I did last week for your sake. Now I’ll -be damned if I become a dirty roustabout and have some old hen ordering -me around while I sweep off the front porch.” - -“Oh, all right,” I answered cheerily. “But the interesting hour of high -noon approacheth. Will you please be so kind as to furnish me with exact -information regarding your financial standing? I am pained to confess -myself the victim of a too familiar craving which calls aloud for -attention.” - -Dan thrust his hand into his pocket and withdrew a solitary ten cent -piece, nor did a prolonged search of numerous pockets yield further -riches. - -“’Tis sad,” I sighed, “but a still voice tells me that that bit of -silver will prove strangely inadequate to the demands of nature. -However, no doubt you can dine off your natural pride, served up on your -paid-up union card, while I eat a dime’s worth of doughnuts or -something.” - -We approached a rather pretentious place as I spoke. A large brass sign -announced “J. Stanchley Loane, M.D., Physician and Surgeon.” I paused to -study the white house with the red-roofed garage in the rear. - -“This looks like a good place to make a start. Think I’ll just go in and -call on my fellow practitioner and see what happens.” - -Dan stepped in front of me. “Now see here, Ethel!” he began angrily. -“Don’t go to pulling off foolish stunts. You are my wife and I -absolutely forbid you to go about like an Irish washerwoman and——” - -“Now see here, Dan!” I mimicked, breaking in upon his authoritative -harangue, “I am your wife, ’tis true, but sad to say, the fact does not -prevent me from growing hungry. ’Tis also true that I am only a graduate -physician with a high-class appetite. I have no paid-up union card to -stand between me and possible employment with its promise of a square -meal. Moreover, I have never felt myself to be so wonderfully superior -to the Irish washerwomen who earn an honest living by honest labour. At -any rate, I shall not attempt to hold myself above them unless I can -prove by my conduct that I have that right. Just now I fail to see how -either you or I can do better than by marching up to that back door and -asking for work like the genuine bundle stiffs that we are. Of course if -you desire to remain here on the curb, upholding your dignity while I -ask for employment, you are entirely at liberty to do so. As for me, I’m -going in right now.” - -As I turned up the concrete driveway Dan leaned the wheel against the -fence and followed. I rapped at the door of the screen porch. The inner -door was opened and a heavy-set man with bristling, reddish hair stepped -out. - -“Good morning, Doctor Loane,” I began. “My husband and I are cycling to -California, and being short of funds are looking for employment. My -husband is an excellent mechanic and will be glad to go over your car -for you. I can cook, wash, scrub or do any kind of housework.” - -The doctor looked us up and down with an insolent stare. - -“So you can cook, can you? Suppose you come in and show what you can do. -I’m alone in the house to-day. We have a devilish time with servants. -Our last maid—a pretty little fool—got on her high horse and quit us -yesterday, and the old harridan of a cook followed suit. My wife’s gone -to town to get another bunch.” - -“Sit down on the porch, you,” he ordered Dan, “and you step in here. -There is the pantry and the ice chest. Throw together some sort of lunch -and call me when it’s ready.” He waved his hand with a lordly air and -disappeared into the front of the house. - -A short inspection enabled me to determine on a suitable menu, and soon -a very fair lunch was spread on the dining table. - -“Humph! You are quite a clever piece of goods,” the doctor volunteered, -as I summoned him to the meal. “Go and feed your man now, and later -we’ll find something more for you to do.” - -The meal concluded, Dr. Loane took Dan to the garage, while I whisked -the dishes away and tidied the kitchen. The doctor entered as I finished -my task. - -“There is some work to be attended to in my private office, and you are -just the one to do it for me,” he grinned ingratiatingly. - -I felt my face growing hot as I realised what he meant. - -“What work do you want me to do?” I asked, rising to my feet. - -He advanced with outstretched arms, a bestial demon looking out of his -red-brown eyes. I backed behind the table, fury and dread causing my -heart to beat tumultuously. - -Just then a short ring came at the side entrance. Dr. Loane drew back -with a muttered curse. We stood motionless for a moment. The bell rang -again, insistently. - -“You, you keep quiet now. Remember what you are,” he hissed, and strode -to the door. - -I lost no time in dashing to the garage, where I found Dan tinkering -with the car. - -“Come, Dan, quick! Let’s get out of here,” I cried. - -“What’s up, Ethel?” He came out wiping his hands on a piece of waste. - -“Never mind an explanation. I’ll tell you later.” I spoke imperiously. -“Get the wheel now and don’t stop to talk.” - -We started in the direction of the business section of the city. - -“I think we had better take the wheel over by the railroad yard, Dan, -and see if you can’t arrange for us to take a freight out of here. I’m a -trifle nervous about that old beast of a doctor. He impressed me as the -kind of man to make us trouble if possible, have us arrested or -something.” - -At the station I waited for Dan to see what arrangements he could make. -In a few moments he returned to the waiting-room door with a troubled -countenance. - -“A freight is going to pull out in about an hour, but I haven’t been -able to make any impression on the crew. You know, the rules are pretty -strict against carrying passengers on freight trains and the boys are -afraid of their jobs. I think we’d better give up the idea and ride out -on the bike. I cached it down at the end of the yard.” - -“I think I’d better talk to the trainmen, Dan,” I replied seriously. -“I’d like to get away as soon as possible. I am afraid the doctor may -make trouble for us.” - -We walked up the track to where a freight engine was puffing back and -forth placing cars in a long train, like a fussy old woman stringing -beads. A lean-jawed man in blue denim with a conductor’s cap pulled over -his eyes turned at our approach. - -“Good evening, Conductor,” I began, looking him full in the face. “We -have no money and we must get out of this town immediately. I should -like to put our bicycle, which is down at the end of the yard, in some -empty car that you are going to take out to-night, and get a lift for -fifteen or twenty miles.” - -His keen grey eyes bored into mine. “What’s the trouble that you got to -get out of town? Been holding up somebody?” he queried gruffly. - -“My husband and I rode into town this morning and started to hunt work -as usual. We stopped at a doctor’s house over on the north side, Doctor -Stanchley Loane’s, and he gave us work for the day. His wife was out, my -husband was cleaning the auto in the garage, and while I was at work in -his private office, he attacked me. I gave him the slip and got away. -Now, if we ride the wheel out of town, I’m afraid he’ll make trouble for -us. He expects us to go that way.” - -“The old son-of-a——” the conductor stopped abruptly. “He’s a bad egg all -right. We all know that, but I scarcely thought he’d dare go so far. Of -course, your being a sort of hobo——” He stopped again. “Reckon he didn’t -take a very close look at those shoulders of yours, or he wouldn’t have -tried to get fresh. Well, we’ll see what can be done. Where did you say -your wheel is?” - -Dan described its location. - -“All right. You go there and be ready. We’ll shunt an empty down that -way and when the coast seems clear, you pile aboard and lie low. It’s a -risky business, but it’s all in a lifetime.” He turned away and began -signalling the engineer. - -Dan and I scuttled down the track. When we had the wheel in hand, ready -for loading, he turned to me. - -“Did that old devil actually try to lay hands on you? Why didn’t you -tell me when you came out to the garage? I’d like to go back and crack -his nut for him.” - -“I’m glad enough to get out of the nasty scrape without any -skull-cracking. You must remember that we are looked upon as hoboes, and -hoboes have no rights. I do wish the men would hurry with that car.” - -As though in answer to my thought, a box car rolled gently down the -track and came to a stop not ten feet from where we waited. - -“Good shot,” said Dan as we slid back the side door, which was ajar. - -A long look around and I scrambled in, while Dan hoisted up the wheel -and quickly followed. The bottom of the car was packed solid with -radiators, which were piled almost to the top in the rear end, each tier -held in place by heavy braces. We stacked the tandem in a convenient -corner and crouched in silence on the crates. - -Soon there came a clinking rumble, there was a slight jar, and our car -moved up the line to take its place in the outgoing train. - -An hour or more passed while the train roared on. Dan sat by the door, -while I, lulled by the clank of wheels and the panting breath of the -engine that was whirling us homeward, leaned against the radiator braces -in the centre of the car and lost myself in dreams. - -Came a shriek of the whistle, a grinding crash, and the floor of the car -seemed to buckle under me while something dealt me a terrific blow -between the shoulders, lifting me clear into the air and flinging me -headlong against the front timbers. - -Consciousness struggled back from the void of nothingness and I heard -Dan’s agonised voice in my ear. - -“My God, Ethel, speak to me. Are you hurt? Oh, she doesn’t answer! She -can’t be dead! Ethel! Ethel!” - -As he dragged my limp body toward the door a flaming torture seared my -lungs, my mouth filled with a hot, brackish fluid. “Wait,” I gasped, -half strangled. “Let me rest a moment. I’ll be all right in a minute.” -He must not know my plight. I turned my head away as his groping fingers -caressed my hair, thankful for the thick darkness as I freed my mouth of -blood. - -“Oh, thank God! Thank God!” he was whispering softly as he tried to lift -me in his arms. - -“Let me lie flat for a little while, dear. Then I’ll get up. Are you all -right?” - -“Yes, I’m O.K. It wasn’t a regular wreck. We must have run into -something. The shock threw the radiators about. The air seemed full of -them, but I got off scot free. You and the tandem and the radiators were -all in a scramble. I thought I should never get you out. You’re sure you -are not hurt?” - -“I feel rather shaken, but I believe there is nothing serious the -matter. I had a rap that put me out for a few minutes, that’s all.” - -“What happened?” called Dan to the conductor who approached with a -lantern as I finished scrubbing the blood from my face. - -“A drunken bum stalled his team on the crossing. The engine rounded the -curve and was within a hundred feet before Sam saw the wagon. The -good-for-nothing sot was off in front of the horses, else he would be in -kingdom come. How did you come out? Did it shake you up much when Sam -set the emergencies?” - -“My wife had a pretty thorough pounding. The blamed radiators broke -loose and piled up in the front of the car. Guess we’d better try -another Pullman or clear out altogether. What do you want to do, Ethel?” - -“Oh, let’s ride as far as we can. Even a freight train covers ground so -quickly compared to our slow old wheel.” - -“All right, but we’d better hunt another carriage.” - -The conductor stood hesitating. “This radiator car is billed straight -through to Frisco,” he informed us. “I picked her out for that reason. -There ain’t many cars left open like she is. Don’t know how it comes she -ain’t sealed shut. But if you have real good luck, you might be able to -skate right through to Frisco in a week or ten days. It’ll be a pretty -rough trip, but if you want to get to Cal in a hurry, it’ll beat pumping -a bike.” - -“Oh, Dan, we must try it. I’d ride the bumpers or the cowcatcher to get -home in a week,” I cried, forgetting my pain in such a joyful prospect. - -“It seems a trifle risky to trust those radiators again, but you’re the -doctor, so here goes.” - -As Dan settled down beside me the conductor slipped a bill into his hand -and ducked away. The engineer signalled that he was ready to be off. -When the train took the next siding to permit repairs on the engine, Dan -secured a lantern and we straightened our tangled possessions and made -ourselves as comfortable as possible for the night. - -I was glad when Dan slept, for I feared he would notice my restless -seeking for some posture in which I could forget my aches and pains in -sleep. But my hopes were in vain, for mind and body conspired to hold my -nerves at a tension. The events of the day, which seemed of a month’s -duration, formed a kaleidoscopic jumble in my brain. - -Morning dawned at last and I lay prone on the radiator crates, while Dan -busied himself with the tandem, which had also suffered in the mêlée of -the evening before. - -It was nearly dark when we pulled into the railroad yard at Des Moines. -Our car was switched off the main track, and Dan immediately got out to -purchase provisions for the western trip. Trembling at every noise, I -awaited his return, and it was not long till he was back with an armful -of bundles and a kettle of water. Another train was being made up and -soon our car was shunted into place. The engineer had given the signal -for the crew to assemble and my breath had begun to come easier, when -the door was jerked open and a man thrust in his head. - -“Hey, yous! Come out of that,” he snarled. “Here, Tim, I’ve found a -couple of boes. Come on out now,” as we made no move. “If you don’t, -you’ll wish you had in about two seconds.” - -Slowly Dan clambered out. I followed. - -“What to hell have we here? Blamed if it ain’t a woman!” the detective -cried. - -Tim, meanwhile, advanced with a lantern, and having given us a close -inspection, leaped into the car. - -“What in blazes is this?” he exclaimed, catching sight of the wheel. - -Dan explained shortly. - -“Well, yank her out of here. This car moves in about two minutes.” - -Dan sprang inside and lowered the wheel to me. Tim threw our bundles to -the ground. “Toot, toot,” whistled the engine. The train pulled out. - -As the familiar car moved away, my heart seemed breaking. All my hopes -of reaching California in a few days crashed to the ground; thoughts of -the fierce railroad detectives, the waiting jail, the courtroom in the -morning, surged over me. I burst into tears. - -“What ya goin’ t’ do wid ’em, Joe? Run ’em in?” queried Tim. - -“Naw, don’t believe I will. Come, now,” turning to us. “Beat it out o’ -here and don’t let me catch yous fooling around this yard any more. Go -on. Beat it quick.” - -Glad enough to escape, we stumbled up the track through the darkness. - -“Aw now, aw now,” said a hoarse voice at my elbow. “It’s pretty fierce -luck, all right. But never you mind, lady, we’ll get you out of here all -right. Just come right along to our shack and we’ll fix you up fine.” - -In a few minutes we came to a tiny one-room shanty, formed from an old -car, which was fitted up with a stove, bunks, a table and chairs. My -kindly guide set out soap, clean towels and a fine, big basin of hot -water. What luxury! I plunged my grimy hands into the grateful depths -and laved my blackened, tear-stained face. - -When Dan had made a refreshing toilet, we sat down to the first real -meal in two days. Our friends, the car inspectors, watched us eat with -much satisfaction while discussing the best method of getting us safely -out of Des Moines. Picking up his switchman’s lantern, one stepped out -and soon returned with the report that an empty car would go out in a -freight that left about two o’clock. - -The men conducted us by a circuitous way to a cattle car, the bottom of -which was covered with a thick layer of clean straw. The detectives had -already examined and passed this car, so under the protection of the car -inspectors, it was quite safe to climb aboard. Our wheel was hoisted in -and laid flat in a corner, and after an attempt to express our -gratitude—really too deep for words—we ourselves lay down and were well -covered with straw. I fell asleep immediately. - -The rays of a lantern, which was thrust within a few inches of my face, -aroused me. The train was grinding to a stop, and as I blinked stupidly -in the sudden light, I heard voices deep in argument. - -“I tell you, they’re no spotters. She has an honest face.” - -And another voice answered, “Well, let ’em ride to the next station and -ask ’em a few questions.” - -The lantern flashed the signal, and once more we were under way. - -The “brakie” settled himself in the straw. Dan produced his union card, -our marriage license and other papers to prove our identity; the wheel -was uncovered for inspection, and a few questions confirmed the brakeman -in his opinion of our honesty. At the next stop the conductor joined us -and agreed to move us into a closed car before daylight. - -So to-day we rest in comfort and despite the ache of bruised and -stiffened shoulders I am happy in the thought that to-morrow’s dawn will -see us close to Council Bluffs. - - - - - EIGHT - - _June 3rd_, - SOMEWHERE IN NEBRASKA. - - - - - EIGHT - - - _June 3rd. Somewhere in Nebraska._ - -At last I know the joys of domestic service. The pleasures of the “hired -girl” and all the privileges and emoluments pertaining to her high -estate have been mine. - -Our good friends, the train crew, who carried us out of Des Moines, -dropped us off at the first little station east of Council Bluffs early -in the morning of May 15th. We determined to cycle into town, get -breakfast and look for work. We were making good time and had entered -the suburbs when, as we spun around a corner and approached a large red -house, surrounded by a tall hedge, a series of brain-piercing shrieks -rent the air. My control of the wheel was none too steady that morning -and the shock was too much for frayed nerves and stiffened muscles. The -tandem took the bit in its teeth and in a jiffy had buried its nose in -the thick branches at the base of the hedge. I landed on my feet, and -through a break in the shrubbery saw the cause of the commotion. - -In an angle of the enclosure a red hen was flapping and squawking, her -brood of downy chickens dashing hither and thither, pursued by a large -mongrel dog. Within a high wire fence, evidently the chicken yard, a -moon-faced woman stood like a marionette, her fat hands shooting into -the air with a rhythmic precision which synchronised perfectly with the -dropping of her lower jaw which opened widely with each vocal effort. - -As I stared, the dog captured a tiny chick and tossed it high in air. I -dashed forward and seized the brute by the scruff of the neck and -dragged it, growling and struggling, to the break in the hedge where Dan -came to my assistance and sent the animal howling down the road. - -I turned back to the frightened brood and was joined by the female -calliope. Together we gathered the cowering mites from their places of -concealment among the grass and weeds and at last saw the mother safe in -the coop, her decimated family huddled about her. - -“You know chickens, oh, you know,” the lady puffed. “These are prize -birds—all, all prize stock—I paid an outrageous price for them—Tamas -said it was very shortsighted to do so—but you know chickens.” - -“I couldn’t stand idly by while that hateful dog mangled the little -things,” I interrupted. - -“Of course not, with prize stock like these. You know, oh, you know.” - -Dan approached with the tandem, the front tire of which was sadly -flattened. - -“Got a puncture when you rammed the hedge. Guess we’ll have to camp here -till I can patch the inner tube. Maybe you can buy a few eggs and cook -breakfast. I’m nearly starved.” - -“Not these eggs. Not these eggs. These are all prize stock, every one a -prize winner.” The arms of the moon-faced madam made an upward sweep. I -clapped my hands over my ears instinctively. But a compassionate Fate in -the shape of a young girl intervened. - -“Breakfast’s ready, Ma’am,” she sang out. “Mr. MacBride says he will be -right in.” - -A tremendous struggle was mirrored in my lady’s open countenance. She -looked at the “prize chickens,” turned toward the house, shot a covert -glance at Dan, gazed anxiously at the chickens again. It was a solemn -moment. But fear and hospitality triumphed. - -“Maybe you better come in. I don’t know what Tamas will say. But the dog -would have killed more—all prize stock—so shortsighted of me....” - -Thus rambling on, she led the way into the house, while the maid stared -unbelievingly. It came my turn for wonderment when I caught sight of the -breakfast table. It was loaded with great bowls of oatmeal, cream, -sausage, eggs, potatoes, and a heaping plate of graham or oatmeal gems. -An odour of hot cakes spoke of more food to follow. - -“You must wait till Tamas has finished. Just sit down here. I hear him -coming now.” - -Our hostess turned in much agitation as a long, cadaverous individual -entered the door. He halted and fixed us with a hostile glare. - -“Now, Tamas, now—this lady saved my prize doggins from a chick—oh, -dickens from a chog—oh, oh, what am I saying!” - -Dan uttered a strangled snort. The mingled horror and wrath on Tamas’ -face was indescribable. His unfortunate wife once more essayed an -explanation. - -“He—he was going to suck the eggs. But I told him they were all—all -prize eggs. Then I thought it best to bring them in here.” - -“Probably under the circumstances it was the safest thing to do, ah. So -you go about the country begging, do you?” He turned to Dan. “I am -surprised, surprised and pained. Your wife—I presume she is your -wife?—appears quite intelligent, ah.” He dragged out each word as from -the depths of ultimate wisdom. - -“Well, I’ll admit that my wife does show gleams of intelligence at -times,” Dan responded gravely. - -“Those thoroughbred fowls are provoking, most provoking, ah.” Mr. -MacBride turned to his palpitating wife. “You see, my dear, how very -shortsighted it was of you to bargain for them while I was in Omaha. -Such a waste and loss—no profit. I shall be compelled to foreclose on -old lady Martin’s poultry farm next week, which will give us some of the -finest fowls in this county,—and at absolutely no expense for feed and -care, no bother, no annoyance. All profit, clear profit, mark you that.” - -He licked his lips physically and metaphorically as he seated himself at -the table and attacked a bowl of oatmeal and cream. His performance -reminded me of a dredger I once saw at work in the Sacramento Valley. -The spoon work was wonderful—his only rival in endless chain effect -being a Chinaman with chopsticks. - -The girl removed the empty bowl and replaced it with a plate heaped with -sausage, eggs and fried potatoes, which Mr. MacBride fell upon with -undiminished zeal, his wife meanwhile plying us with questions. - -“You, I take it, are presumably working people—that is, you will no -doubt accept employment if such is presented to you,” he began after a -prolonged period of uninterrupted labour. “Now, there is one grave -failing to which the working classes of America abandon themselves, ah. -They eat too much.” - -With consummate skill he flipped into his thin-lipped, rapacious mouth -an enormous forkful of sausages and potatoes, which he swallowed at a -single gulp. - -“I have read scientific articles, articles written by experts, which -prove with mathematical accuracy that a workingman can live comfortably -on nine cents a day, ah.” - -“Tamas knows, oh, he knows,” chirped his wife delightedly. - -“But the average workingman’s outlay is far, far beyond reason. This -whole nation is suffering from extravagance and overfeeding, ah.” - -“But thousands of people, in the cities especially, eat scarcely enough -to sustain life,” I ventured. - -“Slums, bah, slums, human dregs unworthy of an intelligent man’s -consideration. Of course, they live in poverty. Why not? It is all their -own fault,—lack of thrift, extravagance and laziness.” He paused to -drain a cup of tea. - -“But there is never any real poverty in the country districts. Now this -community, for instance, is prosperous, most prosperous. I never get -less than 8 per cent. on my loans.” - -“That certainly does speak well for the community and yourself,” I -conceded. - -“I flatter myself that I am a good business man, an excellent example of -the pure American type, conservative, patriotic, a solid all-round -citizen. But our low, ignorant foreigners must be educated. I have -endeavoured to collect a fund among our leading merchants to secure a -teacher to inculcate an idea of thrift. Such work should really be done -by the government. Thrift, ah—the lack of thrift is the curse of this -nation. Just imagine the business gain if our extravagant working class -could be brought to live on nine cents a day.” - -“But I don’t understand,” I murmured, eyeing him with interest. “If your -patrons ate less, they might save money, and then they would not borrow -money of you at 8 per cent. interest, and the prosperity of this -community would suffer.” - -“Not at all, not at all.” He leaned forward with a first suggestion of -animation. “With the price of land as it is, the cost of farm -implements, the high taxes on improvements and the irregularity of -crops, it is simply impossible for a man of small capital to escape a -mortgage. Now the point is this. With the present high cost of living, -the farmer pays even a moderate interest of 8 per cent. say, with -extreme difficulty. But with proper instruction in thrift, I have no -doubt rates could be raised to 12 per cent. and still not prove -prohibitive.” He paused to butter a muffin. - -“I hold land that I purchased for a song years ago. I hold it unimproved -as the advance in land values, as the small farmers come in, amply -repays me. But some of it I subdivided and sold at fat prices. Why, one -of those farms has been foreclosed on five times in the last fifteen -years. Each owner has added improvements, of course, but not what they -should have done. If I could have had a series of really ambitious men -on it, I now would own one of the finest farms in this section. But my -farmers don’t seem to understand thrift.” - -He sighed heavily as the maid set out the remains of the meal for our -consumption. Dan, no doubt deeming imitation the sincerest flattery, -seemed bent on equalling his host’s remarkable performance as -trencherman. Mr. MacBride eyed each mouthful with scowling anguish, -while with each succeeding minute his wife’s agitation increased. - -“Really, my good man, your appetite is excessive, positively abnormal. I -had thought of permitting you to work a few days for your board and -lodging, but that is manifestly impossible. It would never do. -Moderation, my good man, moderation should be the keynote in all -things.” - -We passed from the MacBride domicile in comparative quiet. - -Dan soon had the puncture repaired and the wheel ready for the road. We -mounted and presently were gliding through the streets of Council -Bluffs. - -A few hours’ inquiry convinced Dan of his inability to get work at his -trade, but he heard that there was a chance of employment on a truck -farm east of town, so we rode out to locate the place. - -After some argument, we were engaged, I to do the housework, Dan to work -in the fields. The farmer first offered a dollar a day between us, but -we finally secured a dollar and a half a day and board. We were -immediately put to work tying bunches of radishes, onions and other -vegetables for market. - -About ten in the evening, as we went to the bare room assigned us, the -woman handed me an alarm clock set for four A. M. with orders to serve -breakfast promptly at five so the men could be at work by five-thirty. - -Nightmare days followed. Always up at four in the morning, I was kept -constantly at work until after I had cooked the nine o’clock supper for -two men who made the late trip to town each evening. - -The house was a large one. There were four children, the man and his -wife, an old aunt and five hired men besides Dan and myself to cook for. -The laundry had remained undone since the last girl left, and present -opportunities were not to be overlooked. Such heaps of soiled clothing I -never saw before. Then, when cooking, cleaning, washing and ironing were -done, if perchance there was half an hour to spare, I was set at the -never-ending task of tying vegetables. On Sunday the mistress of the -house wanted to know whether I could darn stockings, as I ought to be -able to do a good deal of mending on that day. To cap it all, the couple -quarrelled constantly, nagged the children and one another and railed at -the poor old aunt by the hour. When not so engaged, the woman would -snoop through our scanty belongings, ask me all manner of personal -questions and follow me about with talk of the good home she was giving -me and how few people there were who would take tramps and hoboes right -into their own comfortable houses and care for them. Poor Dan was driven -like a slave from dawn till dark and after, so at the end of a week, we -concluded to take to the road once more. - -When Dan informed the man of our intentions and asked for our money, -such a storm of invective was loosed as is seldom heard. We were lazy, -good-for-nothing bums who were too shiftless to do honest work, but -wanted to live off thrifty, economical people who had some ambition in -life. The woman declared that I was an ungrateful dog—only she did not -say dog, but referred to the female of the species—that I had imposed on -her hospitality for a whole week, but she supposed that was all one -could expect for trying to do a good turn to dirty sewer rats. The man -then burst into shocking profanity, which Dan cut short by suggesting -the imminence of a stiff punch on the jaw. - -As we were riding away from the “good home,” I recalled experiences -related by servant girls with whom I had come in contact in the practice -of my profession. I remembered the little maid who was on duty -habitually sixteen hours a day in the mansion of a San Francisco -millionaire. She became violently insane and was sent to the Napa State -Hospital. I thought of the great number of household workers to be found -in such institutions, and of the terrifying increase in insanity. Then -my thoughts turned to those who go astray and others who lead lives of -shame, and the large percentage that are recruited from the ranks of -servant girls. My mind dwelt on the attitude of friends who counted the -“good home” given a girl a large part of her reward for service -rendered. - -A good home. What is it? Food and shelter? Yes. But it is something -more. Personal comfort, the exercise of individual taste in the choice -of one’s intimate surroundings, the joy of ownership, the privilege of -entertaining one’s friends, a sense of privacy, a certain liberty of -habits—all these, added to that greatest of all great gifts, love, and -the presence of the loved ones, make a true home. - - -We were approaching the Missouri River when black clouds heaped -themselves across the horizon, and soon blasts of wind and rain forced -us to seek the shelter of a rude shack on the river bank. A bent, -white-bearded man opened the door and invited us in with all the warmth -and grace of real southern hospitality. There was scant room for the -wheel beneath the tiny porch, and the two rooms were already -over-crowded. - -A feeble old lady, swathed in shawls, sat in a rough box chair at the -window. A young girl with a baby but a few days old on her arm lay on -the bed, while a woman, evidently the daughter of the old couple, fussed -about her. A tall, incredibly lanky girl was kept busy placing pots and -pans to catch the drippings from the roof, which leaked in a dozen -places. - -In ten minutes we were chatting as freely as lifelong friends. The old -man was a Confederate veteran, who had been wrecked financially and -physically by the Civil War. He and his invalid wife had moved by -degrees from Kentucky across Illinois and Iowa to their present -location. One child only had survived the many privations. She had -married young and been left a widow with two little girls. The eldest of -these, the pale girl in the bed, had married a youth of eighteen when -little more than a child. The baby which formed the fourth generation in -this home of poverty awakened with a feeble wail. The mother showed me -the wriggling red mite with an air of pride, but suddenly she turned her -head away and burst into tears. - -“Oh, Tony, Tony,” she moaned, “how can they keep you away from your own -beautiful baby boy?” - -“Her Tony’s in the jail,” the old man volunteered with slow bitterness. -“In the jail because he couldn’t see his wife and unborn baby starve. We -had bad luck last winter. I’m an old man. My right hand never has been -worth anything since the War.” He extended his withered arm, drawn and -distorted by an old wound. “I’ve done all I could, but work is scarce -for such as me.” - -“Folks won’t give Grandpap a job. They call him an old Copperhead.” The -younger girl spoke for the first time. - -“I fought for the South. I love her. Should my great-grandchild be -starved for that?” - -“The children had typhoid fever, Tony and Sadie and Stella.” The quiet, -brown-eyed widow took up the story. “Tony took sick at the camp—he’d -only been there a few weeks—and came home the last of October ready to -die. Sadie took it next. She was carrying little Tony and it went hard -with her. Then Stella came down. I thought we would lose them all. We -had no money for anything. It was weeks and weeks before Tony got better -and then he wasn’t strong. I took in washing when the worst was over, -and Pap did all he could. Tony, he’s an orphan and Italian besides,—a -Dago they call him.” Her voice trailed off despondently. - -“Tony is as good an American as ever lived,” Sadie spoke up fiercely, “a -sight better than the scrubs around here. Supposing his folks was -Italian. What difference does that make?” - -“Tony got work teaming,” the old man spoke again. “We had no food in the -house, the weather was cold, Sadie was weak from the fever and crying -with hunger all the time. He got to taking things from the cars and -bringing them home. One time he brought a case of canned soup. How the -girls did go for it. It was their salvation. - -“Then one night it was snowing hard. Tony came in all tuckered out—he -never was one of these husky boys—and he was sitting over the stove, -with Sadie trying to cheer him up. All of a sudden the door flew open -with a bang and in walks a couple of men—didn’t knock or nothing, just -walked in—and put the handcuffs on him and dragged him away. I’ll never -forget his black eyes, looking so big in his white face as he stared -back at Sadie who had fallen in a faint.” - -“And now he’s in jail, my Tony. He never knew what it was to have a -single soul to love him till he met me. Just an orphan and a bound boy. -He was always so good to me, working hard for a home and children. And -now he can’t see his own son. Oh, Tony, Tony!” She flung herself about -in agony. - -“Hush, honey, hush. Think of little Tony. You’ll poison the milk if you -take on that away.” - -The frail mother quieted her grief and clasped her baby in an ecstasy of -mother-love. “I must take good care of you, mother’s little angel. Daddy -will come back to his own little baby boy some day.” - -The rain had stopped, so we said good-bye to the unfortunate family and -resumed our journey. - -“There is no real poverty in the country districts, is there now?” I -remarked as we pushed the wheel along the sloppy road. - -“Oh, Tamas knows—he knows,” returned Dan grimly. - -The old Confederate had told us of another truck farm not far distant -where we could probably find employment, so we located a convenient -clump of willows and made camp for the night. - -Early next morning we applied for work at the farm and were set to the -task of weeding onions, ten hours’ work for a dollar a day and board. -Slowly the hours dragged past. The noon hour found me far too weary to -eat, so I flung myself face down under a tree, while Dan sought the cook -house with the other hands. - -Once more I began work on the interminable rows. The sun beat down with -intense heat, my back seemed literally broken. As I weeded in a daze, a -peculiar illusion took possession of my mind. I saw a cosy room in San -Francisco, caught a whiff of cooling, bracing fog, fresh from the -Pacific, heard the unctuous tones of a well-groomed, fat-jowled, -long-haired gentleman who was declaiming to a group of adoring females -lengthy verses of his own composition on the “Joy of Labour.” Oh, grave -and paunchy poet, would that thou wert here to busy thy soft white hands -with gummy weeds and thistles and reap a harvest of joy and onions in my -stead! - -About three o’clock something happened. I found myself lying under the -tree at the side of the field, with Dan pouring water over my face. - -“What’s the matter, Dan?” I demanded, bewildered by my new and strange -sensations. - -“Oh, nothing much. You pitched forward on your head about half an hour -ago and I thought you would never come to. You mark my words now. This -ends it. You don’t do any more weed pulling or washing or scrubbing on -this trip. If I can’t earn the living I’ll beg or steal.” - -“It was my back, dear. I haven’t recovered from the thump I got that -night in the radiator car. As soon as that spot gets well, I’ll be able -to do any kind of work.” - -“You may be able, but you won’t do it. I’ll see to that after this. You -lie here and meditate on what I’ve been telling you while I finish this -infernal day’s work. We’ll beat it into Omaha in the morning and I’ll -look for a white man’s job.” With a farewell pat he returned to the -weeding, leaving me to fall asleep in utter exhaustion. - -We trundled over the long bridge across the Missouri River and passed -through Omaha early the following morning. In a grove of trees on the -western outskirts of the city, Dan pitched camp and made me as -comfortable as possible, then mounted the wheel and rode into Omaha to -search for work. - -I was stretched full length on the ground, enjoying the rustle of the -wind in the tree tops and the murmur of a tiny brook, when my attention -was attracted by the sound of footsteps and a moment later a dainty -child in a blue pinafore appeared at the edge of the little hollow. I -smiled a welcome and she came closer and leaned against a near-by tree. - -“Are you having a picnic all by yourself?” she asked, fingering her -apron. - -“Yes, a kind of picnic. I’m all by myself because my husband has gone to -Omaha. You come over here and sit down by me and then I won’t be -lonesome any more.” - -She approached and snuggled by my side. We introduced ourselves and soon -were deep in an interchange of confidences. She located various birds’ -nests for me, described the latest family of kittens, discussed the -number of eggs laid by her white pullet and many other matters of -interest. Then I noticed that she seemed uneasy, examining our luggage -with searching glances. Finally, eight-year-old flesh and blood could -endure no more. - -“Is the picnic in that bundle?” she asked wistfully. “When are you going -to eat it?” - -“There isn’t very much in that bundle. All I have is bread and butter, -but I’ll get you some of that,” I replied, sitting up. - -Her face fell, then brightened. “I know what I’ll do,” she cried, -springing to her feet and clapping her hands joyously. “I’ll run home -and ask mother to put me up some cookies—and some jam—and some -hard-boiled eggs—and maybe some animal crackers, horses, you know, and -cows and things—oh, I’ll get lots and lots of good things to eat, and -then I’ll come back and we’ll have the very nicest picnic ever you saw -in all your life.” She danced away with fairy-like grace, leaving me to -picture her mother’s expression when informed of the woman who was -holding a picnic all by herself on nothing but bread and butter. - -Some fifteen minutes passed. Then I heard a gay “hoo-hoo,” and down the -hillside came my girlie, skipping up and down and hastening the -footsteps of a woman whom I knew at first glance to be her mother. - -“This is Ethel, mother,” she cried as I rose to my feet. Then turning to -me, “Now you can’t be lonesome any more, ’cause mother’s come her own -self.” - -There are persons to whom no introduction is necessary; we recognise -them at once as old friends. Thus it was with Mrs. Patton and myself. -She was soon in possession of my story and invited me to her home to -rest and spend as many days as circumstances would permit. I pinned a -note for Dan on the tree trunk, gathered our belongings, and set off for -the house. Hazel piloted us over the ridge, through orchards and across -fields until we came to a long, low farmhouse, cuddling between two -hills and almost hidden by masses of vines and trees. - -Mrs. Patton was a trained nurse and at once set to work to demonstrate -her capabilities. She heated water, gave me a prolonged hot bath, -followed by a thorough spine-stretching and massage, tucked me into bed, -fed me a bountiful lunch, and then left me to dream away the afternoon -in blissful comfort. - -I awakened about six o’clock, wonderfully relieved and refreshed and -found that my hostess had sent her son to watch for Dan at the cross -roads and guide him to the house. - -At dinner we were introduced to Mr. Patton and John, who were greatly -interested in the story of our adventures. I told them of the old -Confederate soldier, of Sadie grieving for her Tony in the jail, and -they were horrified to learn that such misery existed so close at hand. - -“Of course, I’ve been aware that there were all kinds of suffering and -wretchedness in the slums of large cities,” Mr. Patton sighed, “but I -thought there was no real poverty in the country districts.” - -Dan shot me a covert glance. - -“You’ll get the poor man out of jail, so he can see his little baby, -won’t you, father dear?” Hazel inquired eagerly. - -“Well, well. I’ll see what can be done. It’s a shame that such -conditions should exist in a country as rich as this.” - -When we had repaired to the living room, Mrs. Patton suggested music, -and upon my delighted acquiescence, John set the Victrola to playing. -Then for the first time I recognised one cause of my persistent -heart-hunger. My soul was starving for music. Thrills of ecstasy -agitated me almost to tears as the passionate strains of Tschaikowsky’s -“Melodie” flooded the room with pulsating harmonies. Raff’s “Cavatina” -seemed the divine expression of universal longing for home and -love—_heimweh_ incarnate. - -Once, when we had first moved into Chicago’s slums, I took my guitar and -sang. Simple songs came to my lips, lullabies, songs of the South, the -old, old songs that caress the heart strings. A noise at the door -startled me. I swung it open and started back in surprise. Porch, -stairway and area below were packed with children all absorbed in my -poor performance. Many times thereafter I sat at the narrow entrance and -sang while children and adults crowded about, always asking for more. -But at last the increasing pinch of hunger goaded me into carrying the -precious guitar, relic of girlhood days, to the pawnbroker, there to bid -it good-bye forever. - -Millions of acres of land lying barren in the hands of speculators, -hordes of idle men roaming the country in search of employment, tons of -delicious fruit rotting on the ground in California, hungry women, -billionaires, destitute children, great masses of wealth producers -starving mentally and physically while the fruits of their labor are -denied them. - -Would to God that the people of this nation could learn to think! - - -Dan’s efforts to find work in Omaha were unavailing, so after another -day’s rest we struck out on the military road leading away from the -city. Two days’ travel convinced us that we were hopelessly wrong. - -I now look upon myself as something of an expert in mud, and I can -truthfully recommend the Nebraska article to be superior in cohesion, -adhesion, weight and quantity to any known combination of earth and -water. After a few hundred yards of travel, the wheels and skirt guard -would completely disappear in great masses of reddish adobe, while our -feet assumed elephantine proportions. Standing first on one foot, then -on the other, we would rid ourselves of a few pounds of mother earth and -scrape the wheel as free as possible from its accumulations. A struggle -onward of a quarter of a mile forced us to repeat the process. - -A day passed—and another. Food ran out and farmers refused to sell; -there were no stores, and the situation grew desperate. - -We approached a school house one evening and stopped under a horse shed -for the night. The teacher was passing and stopped to chat. Later she -returned with a bottle of malted milk tablets, which constituted our -evening meal. - -Next morning we turned south to reach the railroad. About one o’clock we -came to a little blacksmith shop, and after some haggling, bought a half -loaf of mouldy bread for a dime. Pushing on for perhaps a mile, we -stopped in a lonely spot to make tea. Everything was dripping with -moisture from recent rains, so, despite Dan’s vigorous efforts, the fire -refused to burn. - -We were both on our knees blowing lustily when a shadow falling athwart -the rack attracted our attention and, glancing up, we saw a bareheaded -man standing with folded arms, fixedly regarding us. We sat back and -stared, for we had seen no house in that vicinity. - -“When you get tired exercising your lungs,” began the stranger, “just -follow me and get a surprise.” - -Thinking that any change must be an improvement on our situation, we -gathered up the cooking utensils and obediently dragged the wheel after -our guide, who plunged into a thick growth of trees on our right. - -A few minutes’ walk brought us to an immense tent, from which issued a -great noise of crunching, stamping and snorting. Passing around to the -far end, we beheld, stretching down one side of the interior, a long row -of horses and mules—perhaps twenty in number—busily munching their -noonday feed, while the other side of the tent was fitted with a kitchen -range, a gasoline stove, cooking utensils, table and chairs, and in the -rear some bunks and a great pile of hay. Leading the way through the -kitchen, the stranger pulled out a curtain strung on a wire, closing off -the rear compartment, and brought a huge kettle of hot water, buckets of -cold, a large tub, towels and soap, with directions to enjoy ourselves -while he prepared a meal. And what a delight it was to have the use of -such conveniences, crude as they were. My opinion of “dirty hoboes” has -undergone a radical change since I have seen for myself the difficulties -that beset the man who has nothing, in his efforts toward cleanliness. - -Our ablutions performed, we entered the kitchen and found our host deep -in the labour of cooking. And what a meal he set out. Hot biscuits, -mashed potatoes, broiled ham and cream gravy, fried eggs and a pot of -delicious coffee. - -The meal was nearly over before his strange manner impressed me. Opening -a large bread box, he took the entire contents and going down the row of -animals fed the loaves to them, talking meanwhile in a most astounding -fashion. Returning, he escorted us to the rear room and insisted on our -lying down, saying that we must be tired, as indeed we were. The words -were scarcely spoken when a heavy rain beat a tattoo on the tent walls. - -“Confound this weather,” began our host, settling himself in a chair; -“I’m two-thirds crazy now, and another three days of this beastly rain -will drive me completely nutty.” - -He held a large contract for road construction, the grading outfit was -his, and “the darned cattle were eating him out of house and home while -he was sewed up by the weather.” It seemed the grading crew had gone to -Omaha to celebrate their enforced holiday, but should be back that day. - -Reaching under the bed, the boss produced an empty demijohn and informed -us that he had drunk the contents to cure the blues. He congratulated -himself on our opportune arrival, declaring that he intended to keep us -so long as the rain continued as an antidote to loneliness and its -alcoholic consequences. - -Just then the smith who had sold us the bread, appeared on the scene in -search of the usual hospitable stimulant. Our host at once produced -another demijohn and stood treat, imbibing freely himself. While the two -men were thus engaged, a foaming horse, hitched to a covered buggy, -dashed up to the tent door, and two women followed by a couple of -half-drunken men clambered out. Fishing under the seat, one fellow drew -out four good-sized jugs of whiskey. - -Night had fallen and the rain was beating heavily, but Dan and I -exchanged one glance, seized our hats and made for the wheel, which -stood, still packed, just within the entrance. Hastily we backed it out -and plunged into the stygian darkness. We had covered a bare hundred -feet when wild yells and shouts for our return showed that our flight -was discovered. The drunken crew came boiling out of the tent with -lanterns in their hands and rushed hither and thither. We drew up behind -a clump of bushes and cowered down with our hearts in our mouths. With -an oath, the smith discovered the track of the wheel in the soft earth -and with a howl of delight started to follow it. Attracted by the -outcry, our erstwhile host lunged madly round the tent and collided -violently with one of the newcomers. Over and over they rolled in the -mud, cursing and slugging one another in drunken frenzy. The smith -paused within a yard of our hiding place to watch the battle. The yellow -rays of a lantern cast a circle of light at the tent door and illumined -the struggling forms. - -Cautiously we lifted the wheel, and guarding each step as best we might, -made off in the direction of the main road. Doggedly we stumbled on, -making as rapid progress as the rain and darkness would permit, falling -at times in the slippery ruts, but always driving desperately ahead. - -After what seemed an eternity, a light shone off to the left. Following -a private road, we came to a gate. The shrill bark of a dog sounded from -an outbuilding. I opened the gate and entered. A cold nose touched my -hand and I felt the pressure of another against my skirt. I have no fear -of dogs and have never been bitten, but Dan is not so fortunate, so he -remained in the background while I explored the premises. Accompanied by -the dogs, I marched boldly to the front door of a large house and rang -the bell. It was opened by a man who stared at my dripping figure in -amazement. His eyes travelled from me to the dogs, a Great Dane and an -Airedale, and I realised the full significance of his glance. I -explained the situation and asked leave to sleep in his barn. - -“Well,” he answered uncertainly, “as a rule, I never let anybody sleep -in my outbuildings, but a person who can get past those dogs must be all -right, so wait till I get a lantern and I’ll take you and your husband -over to the hay mow and make you as comfortable as I can.” - -He turned into the house and soon came out with a lantern and an armful -of bedding beneath an oilskin. Calling Dan and quieting the dogs, he -conducted us to a large barn where we were soon settled for the night -and glad enough to be under the shelter of a safe roof. - -I was awakened this morning by the romping of two kittens and the fox -terrier I heard barking last night. The sun is shining brightly and -everything looks fresh and clean after the storm. The farmer showed us -where to build a fire with dry corn cobs and supplied us with a brimming -pan of new milk, a basket of eggs and a crusty loaf of fresh, homemade -bread, for all of which he refused compensation. - - - - - NINE - - _June 6th_, - WITH A GOOD SAMARITAN. - - - - - NINE - - - _June 6th. With a good Samaritan._ - -While waiting for our things to dry, the day after the experience in the -grader’s camp, we visited our host and his family, who were shocked at -the dangers we had encountered unarmed. The eldest son brought out a -sharp lath hatchet, through the handle of which a hole had been bored -and a stout leather loop attached to slip over the hand. This he handed -to Dan with the remark that while it could hardly be called a deadly -weapon, it would do good execution in case of trouble and at the same -time be useful in making camp. Little did I think, as Dan thanked him -heartily and strapped it on the wheel, how soon that hatchet would prove -the means of saving my life. - -Later in the day we reached the railroad and that night camped in a -ravine. The next day dawned hot and clear. Mile after mile we trudged -down the track, for the roads were still too wet for riding. Houses were -scarce and stood far away from our course; there were no streams near or -other places to obtain drinking water. Our thirst increased as the day -wore on, and when at last we saw a farmhouse in a group of trees some -half mile from the track, Dan suggested that I remain with the bicycle -while he crossed the several pastures that lay between and brought back -a kettle of water. So I sat beside the wheel on the edge of the -embankment while Dan climbed the fence and disappeared in the trees. - -In a few minutes a dreadful commotion arose from the direction of the -farmhouse. A great, roaring voice was booming like a cannon. - -“Get out! ... ornery hide. You....” Inarticulate outcries and oaths -mingled with scattered words and phrases. - -I listened appalled. I knew the attitude that some farmers maintained -towards tramps, and I trembled for Dan’s safety. The racket increased in -violence. I became frantic and determined to go to the rescue. -Unstrapping the hatchet from the handle bars, I slipped the thong about -my wrist and plunged under the railroad fence and across the field, -determined to take a short cut to the scene of combat. Worming a -difficult passage through a barbed wire fence, I came to a black, -sluggish creek or strip of mud perhaps eight feet wide, bordered by a -thick row of trees, whose branches hung low over the surface. An -extremely stout barbed wire fence stretched at right angles across this -stream and joined a similar fence on the farther bank. I paused on the -brink, for the black, slimy surface was repellent. The outcries -redoubled and from where I stood whole sentences became intelligible. - -“Come on now, you ... son of a gun! Get out of that gate, you. Oh, if I -could only reach you with a club. I’ll shoot your hide full of holes in -about a minute.” - -I gazed anxiously up and down. My only course was to wade across. -Grasping the hatchet firmly, I swung my arms, made a little run, a jump -and plunged in. Down, down I sank, deeper and deeper. I laboured -furiously to reach the further bank, but my struggles only increased the -rapidity with which I sank. The thick, black slime rose higher and -higher about me. I tried to scream, but my parched lips could utter no -sound. We have no quicksands or sloughs in my home country, but I have -read of such places and heard of horses and cattle and sometimes human -beings going down, never to be seen again. I thought of Dan escaping -from the farmer and returning to find the abandoned wheel. Of his wife, -there would be no trace. My end would always remain a mystery. As the -black mud sucked me down, I could imagine it rising to my chin, my lips, -my nostrils. I could picture the inky surface closing over my head, -shutting out the sunlight forever. - -In a frenzy, I threw my arms above my head. The blade of the hatchet -caught over a bough. Cautiously I pulled. It held firm. A gleam of hope -illumined my dark despair. Grasping the handle with my left hand, I -tried to lift myself out, but the slough refused to give up its victim -so easily. The blade slipped a little. My heart seemed to leap from my -body. My senses reeled. Fiercely I called on all my forces of reason, -will and self-control. - -Placing just enough weight on the hatchet handle to prevent my sinking -deeper, I studied the situation calmly. My one hope lay in securing a -firm hold on the large branch above. - -Little by little I began to spring the smaller shoot up and down. Harder -and harder I pulled on the hatchet, at the same time forcing the blade -firmly over the limb. The leaves swung closer and closer. Emboldened, I -worked harder than ever. At last I was able to abandon my hold on the -hatchet and secure a firm grip with both hands on the tough wood. - -But the slough dragged me down with a grip like an octopus. A ton weight -pulled at each foot, my skirt seemed grasped by a thousand clutching -hands. And then I gave thanks for my broad shoulders, and for the -violent exercise of steering the tandem, which had developed the sturdy -muscles of my hands and arms. Slowly, slowly I made headway against the -treacherous depths; slowly, slowly, the vicious grip was broken, till -with a gasp of relief I dragged myself out upon the bank. - -I sank down exhausted. - -Then from the farmhouse the undiminished sounds of conflict forced -themselves into my consciousness and suddenly I burned with a reckless -berserk rage against the whole world. - -Springing to my feet, I hurled myself upon the barbed wire fence that -crossed the slough, and clinging with hands and feet to the thorny -strands, edged my way across. Skirt and stockings were torn in a dozen -places. My heavy coils of hair slipped down. My hands bled profusely. -Forcing my way through the second fence, I started across the meadow. As -I rounded a clump of bushes a large red bull, with head to ground and -pawing hoof, barred my way. But I was far past caring for such as he. - -Snatching up a stick, I began clapping wood and hatchet together and -charged directly at his lordship. He stood his ground till the hatchet -was almost touching his nose, then, with a bellow of fear, turned tail -and raced across the field with me in close pursuit. Gaining the fence, -I tumbled over and arrived panting at the back of the farmhouse. - -In a beautiful kitchen garden a farmer stood as though rooted to the -ground with amazement at my grotesque appearance, as with hands and face -streaked with blood, clothing in shreds and bedraggled with mud, I stood -before him with a club in one hand and a hatchet in the other. - -Eyes bulging, nostrils flaming, tail in air, a fine bull calf was -careering madly among the vegetables. - -“Wh—wh—why, my good Lord, woman,” began the man as he recovered his -breath. “What’s happened to you? Where in the world did you drop from?” - -“Where is my husband? What have you done to him?” I demanded hotly. - -“Well, now. Let me see.” He scratched his head perplexedly. “Seems like -I recall a man askin’ for a bucket o’ water something like a half hour -back. Might he be your man now? I was so plum frantic with this here -pesky calf, that I didn’t pay no attention to the man.” - -“But who were you going to shoot?” I persisted. “I could hear you -swearing clear over to the railroad.” - -“Sho, now. Is that so? ’Scuse me. I’m plum bad about swearin’. Wife, -she’s after me all the time, too,” he apologised. “Now, the wife’s right -set on her posies, and this here —— calf—’scuse me, seems like I just -can’t stop cussin’—got in and trompled ’em all down, and while I was a -trying my darndest to get him out, I’ll be damned if he didn’t bust -through into the vegetables and cavort all over them.” - -Meanwhile, the innocent cause of the commotion had taken advantage of -the lull in the storm to make his escape from the garden. - -“You didn’t get in the slough, did ye?” continued the farmer, eyeing my -skirt. “Didn’t ye see all them fences? We had so much trouble with the -stock gettin’ in the —— hole—’scuse me, beats the devil how those words -will come apopping out—that we fenced her all in. But what gets me is -how ye come to get past that bull ’thout being gored to death. He’s -turrible dangerous. That’s why we got all them high fences about. Kill’t -two men, he did, ’fore I got him. Bought him cheap, but the wife just -raises a hell of a row—’scuse me—at keepin’ him.” - -I asked for water, for my thirst was intense, and after drinking deep -from the dripping dipper and washing off the worst of the blood and -dirt, I followed the farmer to the main road, where he pointed out a -short cut to the railroad. - -There I found Dan rushing frantically about, for having found the wheel -with the hatchet gone, he felt sure I had been kidnapped. - -It seems that he had gone to the house, found the farmer chasing the -calf, secured the water, then thinking it would be difficult to carry -the kettle through the fences, tried another route and got on the wrong -road. Before he could find the right path and return, I was in the -slough. - -We slept that night in a tumble-down shed—or rather, Dan did. Each time -I dropped to sleep, I could feel myself sinking in the slough, and would -wake up with a start. - -Next day we rode a good deal and covered a long stretch of territory. -The country was flat and uninteresting and my strained muscles occupied -most of my attention as I tried to confine the rebellious wheel to the -smoother stretches. - -At noon we pitched camp near the railroad track and had the meal well -under way when a passenger train pulled out of a station a mile or two -ahead and thundered toward us. - -“Look,” exclaimed Dan. “What’s the matter there? The train is going to -stop.” - -Sure enough, it was losing speed. People were thrusting their heads from -windows while the fireman was looking back at a group of men on the -blind end of the baggage car. Just as it ranged alongside us, a small -figure catapulted from the platform and rolled almost to our feet. The -train gathered way and sped on. - -I rushed forward and fell on my knees beside a grimy, tattered boy of -some twelve years, who was clutching his fiery red head in both hands -and cursing like a pirate. Blood was spurting from a deep jagged gash in -his left wrist, which he had struck against the projecting fragment of a -broken bottle in his descent. I seized his arm and applied pressure to -control the hemorrhage. He fixed me with an uncomprehending glare. Then -his eyes fell on his dripping arm. - -“Oh, Lord,” he gasped, “oh, Lord, I’m bleedin’ to death—I’m goin’ to -die. Oh, Ma, Ma.” - -“Nonsense, kid, you won’t die. That blood looks a lot worse than it is. -Just be a good boy and hold still for a few minutes and I’ll fix you all -safe. Quick, Dan. Hand me that kettle of boiling water. Now, unpack my -emergency case.” - -By the time Dan had the kit unpacked and contents laid out the water had -cooled enough for use. I cleansed and sterilised the wound, tied the -artery, and soon had the arm bandaged in scientific fashion. The boy had -made no sound, but gazed in fascination at the shining little -instruments, the vials of antiseptics and rolls of gauze. - -“You see, this case proved useful after all,” I remarked to Dan as I -gathered up the implements. “If such things are needed at all, they -usually are needed badly. This boy would have bled to death without -proper attention.” - -At my words the lad burst into tears. “The —— sons of ——” he sobbed. -“They all jumped me at once. They wouldn’t let me alone. I wasn’t doin’ -no harm. It—it don’t cost the old railroad nothin’ if I do ride the -blind. I want to go home. I want to go ho—ome.” Tears washed pallid -channels down his sooty cheeks. - -“Do you think you can take a little nourishment, young man?” queried Dan -as he busied himself with the meal. - -The boy checked his sobs. “I dunno what that is, but I kin eat any old -kind of chuck. You just try me once and I’ll show you. I ain’t had -nothin’ but one little old hunk of bread in two days.” - -“Well, take this pan of water and see if you can remove some of that -make-up from your manly countenance and then pitch into the grub. I’ll -die of starvation myself if I don’t eat soon.” - -I set another kettle of water to boil for tea, and we all fell to with -avidity. - -“Say, I made good time last night,” the boy volunteered, as he finished -his third helping of canned beans and bread. “Rode the Overland Limited. -Gee whiz, but she does burn up the rails. If I only could a stuck, I’d -been home to-morrow. But those boneheads chucked me off this morning. -Then I landed that old hearse they thrown me off of just now. Suppose -I’ll have to hoof it till night.” - -“Why don’t you catch a freight? You wouldn’t be nearly so likely to get -into trouble.” - -“Huh, a freight! Me? Not on your life! What do you think I am, a dead -one? I’m a live guy, I am. No bundle stiff about me. Say, do you know, -I’ve beat it clear from northern Wyoming. I’ve been workin’ a long time -there as a cowboy on a great big cattle ranch. Say, that’s the life.” - -“Seems to me you’re travelling in the wrong direction for a cowboy,” I -observed. “The cattle ranges all lie west of here, and you’re heading -east. How does that happen?” - -“Well, you see, Ma she wants to see me, so I thought I’d make a short -trip home. Me and the old man had a falling out, and I beat it west. -Say, do you know, he expected me to milk two cows, milk ’em and feed ’em -and wait on ’em hand and foot. No fun nor nothin’. And weed the garden! -Say, I bet you never saw as big a garden as we got—great long rows—and -say, I bet you never saw weeds grow as fast as ours do—big, tall weeds. -But Ma wants to see me, so I gotta go home.” - -“Did your mother write to you to come?” I enquired gravely. - -“No, she didn’t write. I’ve never stayed very long in one place so I -never wrote to tell her where I was.” - -“Oh, my! She must be terribly worried about you. How long have you been -away?” - -“Why, let’s see—it must be nearly six weeks now since I beat it. I met a -gang of hoboes the first day I was out and they took me right along with -’em to northern Wyoming. Say, that’s a great country, all right, all -right. But, of course, when Ma wanted to see me I had to leave. - -“I tell you where’s a bad town you gotta fight shy of. That’s little old -Cheyenne. There’s a gun man there, Jeff Farr’s his name. Say, he shoots -a Bo for breakfast every mornin’. You folks want to watch out when you -go through. They run you in for nothin’ at all. I met a nigger just the -other side o’ there. Say, he was runnin’ in circles like a fitty cat. -They had chucked his pal in the can just for nothin’ at all—vag charge -maybe—and no tellin’ when he’d get out, and here’s this poor coon, can’t -go off and leave his pard, can’t find work, can’t get nothin’ to eat, -can’t do a thing in the world but chase around and bawl. Say, I felt -awful sorry for that poor coon.” - -We raided our scanty stores to pack a lunch for the boy. I instructed -him in the care of his wound, described the location of various houses -along the road where I knew by experience he would be sure to find help, -gave him a little note of recommendation and explanation to use when -applying for assistance, then started him on the way to his waiting -mother. - -Just at sundown we came to the town of Wood River, a place I am destined -to remember. Storm clouds were piling on the horizon as Dan hurried to -the shop to buy some meat for supper. While he was gone, some Greeks -approached and with much gesticulation endeavoured to explain something -to me. I gathered an idea of trouble of some kind, but exactly what they -were driving at I was unable to determine. - -We camped on the outskirts of the village, and had hardly finished our -simple meal when gusts of wind and great drops of rain proclaimed the -coming of the storm. We looked anxiously about for shelter. There were -no barns near, but not far from the railroad track stood a house in -process of construction, and while doors and windows were lacking, the -roof and outside walls gave promise of sufficient protection. To this we -hurried and lifted the wheel onto the veranda just as a flood of rain -burst upon us. After a little search we found some nail kegs and sat -down in the front room. We were dozing when footsteps sounded on the -porch. I strained my eyes, but could see nothing in the pitchy -blackness. - -Suddenly a light flashed in my face, the cold muzzle of a pistol pressed -my temple, and a hand gripped my arm. - -“Get up there. None of your tricks now,” snarled a harsh voice. - -The flash was turned on Dan, who was ordered to throw up his hands by a -second man, who flourished a revolver in his left hand. We stumbled to -our feet, dazed by the unexpectedness of it all. - -“You’re under arrest. Better come quietly,” growled the first man -gruffly. - -Dan tried to explain that we had only taken shelter from the storm and -had no intention of doing any damage, but was savagely ordered to shut -up. Grasping me tightly by the arm, the first fellow led the way out of -the building and down the road to the village. - -Arrived at a tiny, wooden shanty, the man unlocked the door and crowded -us in. They slammed and bolted the door behind us and we heard their -footsteps retreating up the walk. As we stood, too bewildered to move, a -match flared in the darkness and in a moment the feeble rays of a candle -revealed the interior of the lock-up. It consisted of a single room, -partially divided by a partition, and containing two bunks. On one of -these sprawled a man, while a big negro held aloft the guttering candle -end. At sight of a woman the recumbent man sprang to his feet and -courteously bade us good evening. Without further ado or questioning, he -removed his hat and coat from the bunk where he had been lying and -suggested that we make ourselves as comfortable as circumstances would -permit. - -At once the negro blew out the candle with the remark that we might need -it before morning. - -As we settled ourselves as best we might in the darkness, flashes of -lightning revealed the dimensions of the one small, barred window, which -furnished all ventilation to the unfortunates within. Furniture, -drinking water or conveniences were utterly lacking and my flesh crawled -at the thought of the straw-covered bunk on which we must rest in the -confined space. - -Hardly had we lain down, when the door was opened and a fifth person was -hustled in. Again the negro lit his candle stub, and we saw that the -newcomer was a boy of not more than sixteen years. - -The officers had paused just outside the window and one remarked that it -was time to go home. There were no occupied buildings near the jail and -I could not help but consider what our fate would be should lightning -strike the flimsy wooden shack or a fire start from match or candle. -When I realised that I was locked within those constricting walls, it -seemed that they were crowding in and smothering me. I wanted to scream, -to beat my hands against the bars, but reason forbade. I settled down -and strove to cultivate the non-resisting attitude of our cell mates, -but my mind kept busy with the wonders of our boasted American -civilisation that permits such occurrences as this. I thought of the -churches throughout the land—no doubt there was one in this very -community—and of the teachings of One who had no place to lay His head. - -“I was a stranger and ye took me not in ... sick, and in prison and ye -visited me not.” - -How many of the good people of the nation have ever even so much as -thought of visiting those cast into their barbaric prisons? - -At sunrise our jailers returned, unlocked the door and set us free. -There was no charge against us and no legal formalities to go through -apparently. Retrieving the wheel, we hastened out of town. - -Beside a small house some miles away we stopped to get water for -breakfast. A motherly woman came to talk to us. Hearing of our recent -experiences, she took us into her home, provided us with hot baths, and -sent us to bed while she cleaned and sterilised our contaminated -apparel. Completely exhausted, I slept the clock around and woke next -morning to find my clothing, clean and neatly mended, piled on a chair -at the bedside. So, thanks to our good Samaritan, we are able to go -forward with renewed strength and courage. - - - - - TEN - - _A Day in June_, - ON THE OPEN ROAD. - - - - - TEN - - - _A Day in June. On the Open Road._ - -The days go by as in a dream. We seldom see a newspaper and seem out of -touch with the world. At night I am too thoroughly occupied with my -blistered feet or else too busy “spouting for the eats,” as Dan -expresses it, to keep track of diary or calendar. - -“Spouting for the eats” has come to be quite a joke with us. We stop -near some farmhouse and Dan goes in for water. Presently along come the -kids and watch our camp preparations with much interest. Usually they -are followed by father or mother, or, perchance, a grown son, who at -once becomes absorbed in the tale of our adventures. Soon the whole -family may be seen crouched around our little fire, which illuminates -the eager faces as they drink in every word with ears and mouth and -eyes. Dan fumbles about with the camp kettle and I break off in the -middle of some exciting incident to attend to the preparations for -supper. Somebody wakes up to the need for milk and eggs, which, of -course, are difficult to carry with us. It is usually about milking -time, and at a word from some grown-up a child scurries off and proudly -returns with a pail of new milk and a hatful of eggs, which he shyly -presents to me. The eggs are boiled and eaten from the shell, and the -cocoa made from undiluted new milk is a beverage fit for the gods. - -In other instances, we are invited into the house and sit down to a real -country supper. After the meal I resume the interrupted narrative and -entertain our hosts with descriptions of life in Chicago, the San -Francisco earthquake, and incidents of interest along the way. Quite -frequently I advise a change of diet and care for some puny infant, or -diagnose the case of an ailing mother and risk the leaving of a -prescription to be filled when we are well on our journey. - -Next morning the family assembles to see us start. We exchange names and -addresses, and as we ride away, we feel that a new bond of friendship -has been established. - -Near a little place called Gibbon our rear tire gave out, and while -making the change, a farmer invited us to his home to eat supper and -spend the night. After considerable trouble with the wheel, we started -on shortly after noon next day, but had not gone far when we saw dense, -black clouds piling up ahead. We rode hard for some time, then rain -began to fall and we stopped beneath a cattle shed. The rain slackened -and we rode on, but had not proceeded any great distance when we noticed -a very severe storm raging in the northwest. - -Soon great gusts of wind came whirling across the prairie, while rain -and sleet whipped our faces. There was no shelter near, so we determined -to struggle on and reach Kearney if possible. A train steamed past, with -passengers leaning from the windows and waving their arms in great -excitement. Glancing about to learn the cause of the commotion, I looked -toward the south and nearly fell from the wheel. A cyclone was bounding -across the country and as I gazed it whirled a building into the air, -then dashed it to earth, where it flew into a thousand fragments. - -Suddenly we were picked up, wheel and all, and the next thing I knew, -were rolling over and over in the ditch at the roadside, while the -tandem lay twenty feet away. As I struggled to my feet I saw another -cyclone, which had just given us a playful flip, scudding away in the -north. Hailstones as large as pigeon’s eggs now began to pelt us, and to -add to our discomfort, we found that both chains and the steering gear -had been broken in the crash and Kearney was still at least two miles -distant. - -We had pushed the damaged bicycle a scant hundred yards when a -two-seated automobile, guided by a man with a white-faced woman at his -side, drew up beside us. The man invited me to ride into Kearney with -him while Dan brought in the wheel. Dan urged me into the back seat and -the machine plunged ahead. With a wild yell, the driver whipped off his -soft felt hat and began to beat the steering wheel with it. - -“Whoop-la!” he howled. “Go it, Nellie! Go it, old girl! Show the natives -what you can do.” - -The car careened from side to side across the wet and slippery road. At -tremendous speed we struck the railroad crossing at a tangent. Tossing -us high in the air, the machine leaped for the ditch. With a powerful -wrench the driver whirled the car, which poised on two wheels at the -verge, then headed straight for a telegraph pole on the other side of -the road. Once more he veered, and the brass hub of the hind wheel bit -into the wood as we shot past. - -But Providence was with us, and in a few moments the car drew up in -front of a hotel in Kearney, while the half-drunken owner staggered out -and, conducting me within, engaged and paid for the best room in the -house for Dan and me. The other poor woman, who had been picked up from -the roadside like myself, made her escape. - -Dan came in, drenched and weary from the buffeting of the storm, and -threw himself on the bed. I heard a terrific, roaring, crashing, rending -sound, and rushing to the window saw another cyclone sweeping through -the outskirts of the town. Large trees swayed and whipped madly, then -were whirled into the air. - -“Cyclone! Cyclone! Quick, Dan, here comes another cyclone,” I screamed -above the roar of the tempest. - -“Darn the cyclone,” Dan replied; “I’ve seen enough for one day.” - -Nevertheless, he came to the window just as the great, black, swirling -funnel passed from view, and, gazing at the sky, enquired where all the -books had come from. Sure enough, something floated in the heavens that -resembled the scattered leaves of volumes. An instant later these pages -came down and disclosed themselves as the sides and roofs of houses. - -Next morning Dan took the wheel to the repair shop while I studied the -ravages of the storm. No lives were lost in that immediate -neighbourhood, but much property had been destroyed. The brick -foundation of one home had been scattered in every direction, while the -wooden frame, apparently unharmed, had been set down on its original -site. In another instance a parlour wall had been neatly removed and a -marriage license torn from the frame which still hung in its place, -while furniture and pictures remained untouched. This peculiar -phenomenon gave rise to considerable comment and jokes concerning the -domestic felicity of the married pair. - -We were eating our lunch in a vacant lot when our friend from Gibbon -drove up. He called Dan over for a short talk, then drove rapidly away. -When Dan returned and held out his palm, I cried out in surprise, for in -his hand lay four shining five dollar gold pieces. When we had gone and -the storm came up, this man had worried over our probable fate, and -early next morning had driven the twelve miles into Kearney to overtake -and give us this money to ease the journey across the Rockies. Thus we -were able to renew our shoes and stockings, which were in shreds, pay -for new parts for the wheel, lay in a stock of groceries and still have -a little money in our pockets. - -If grateful, loving thoughts have power to benefit the recipient, then -surely our benefactor will receive some reward, for my whole soul pours -itself out in deepest gratitude for his gracious, generous act. - - -Leaving Kearney, we were able to do a good deal of riding, but suffered -severely from heat in the middle of the day. For miles we rode beside -stock fences where groups of horses with heads tossing, nostrils -flaming, manes and tails floating like pennons in a breeze, raced beside -us to the confines of their pastures, there to stand with stamping hoofs -and outstretched noses, eyeing us with the greatest curiosity. Once a -steer, grazing by the roadside, started to run ahead of us, and lumbered -along a full mile, then, in a panic of fear, he reared and up-ended over -the fence in a comical fashion and stood blowing wildly, watching his -strange pursuer glide past. - -The road became wretchedly poor. Again and again the wheel would slip -into the deep ruts filled with choking dust in spite of every effort. In -places where the surface was hard, innumerable small gullies from the -winter rains crossed at right angles, so that riding became unsafe from -the strain on the heavily-laden tandem. - -Mosquitoes bred in the sluggish streams, full-fed by recent storms, and -when evening fell surrounded us in dense clouds. Their bites are almost -as painful to me as bee stings, raising great, red wheals, which itch -and burn for days, so that I was nearly wild from the irritation. To add -to the general discomfort, my new shoes, which were very heavy for the -coming trip across the desert, blistered my feet atrociously, so that -when the rear chain broke in crossing a bad gully, I was scarcely able -to hobble. - -And each succeeding day made greater demands on one’s endurance. The -country became hilly with stretches of treacherous sand. High bench -lands, seamed with narrow ravines, skirted rugged buttes, while to the -south and west one caught vistas of barren plains. Small farmhouses -perched on the hillsides, and here and there great fields of grain or -sprouting corn appeared, with groups of animals grazing in the distance. - -Dan had managed to mend the damaged chain, but his natural recklessness -chafed constantly against my caution, so that each steep descent -provoked an argument. At last I flung discretion to the winds and down -the hills we flew, bounding from hummock to hummock, swaying, lurching, -recovering ourselves by seeming miracles. - -We had been riding across a jutting arm of bench land, and as we -approached a sharp turn in the road, the ground began to fall away -abruptly. I endeavoured to slow down, but Dan was of a different mind. -Spurred on by his words of ridicule, I permitted the wheel to gain -momentum and we spun around the curve at racing speed. - -A tremendously long and steep declivity lay before us, the strip of road -disappearing from our sight in another turn at the bottom of a ravine. -My heart leaped convulsively as the wind whistled past my ears, but I -had scant time to coddle fear. The strain of handling the heavy tandem -at such a speed took all my attention. The pitch increased; we seemed to -fly through space. Then the front wheel struck a bed of heavy sand at -the curve, and I knew no more. - -My next sensation was of a shaking, joggling motion and by degrees I -discovered that I was lying on my back on the bottom of a farm wagon -that was jolting slowly up a rutty hillside. Dan, very pale, was bending -over me, and the wheel with twisted handle bars and dangling chain was -propped alongside. In answer to his anxious inquiries, I undertook a few -investigative movements and soon was able to assure him that I suffered -from nothing worse than some severe bruises and slight concussion from -alighting on my head. He had received a rather deep scratch in the -_mêlée_, but otherwise was uninjured. - -The wagon turned abruptly and I struggled to a sitting posture, as our -driver, a lad of some sixteen summers, halted his team of mules in front -of a low, unpainted farmhouse. A motherly woman hurried out in answer to -his call, and in a moment was all solicitude. With tender care she -guided my reeling footsteps into the house and I was soon ensconced on -the living room lounge while Dan occupied a rocker at my side. After -seeing that we were both as comfortable as circumstances would permit, -our hostess left the room to prepare supper. - -The outer door swung open and a handsome, blue-eyed boy about twelve -years old, dressed from head to foot in blue denim, passed slowly -through the room and, with a shy nod to us, entered the kitchen. -Scarcely ten seconds later the same door opened and the boy again -appeared and with another little duck of the head disappeared in the -rear. I was marvelling at the speed he had shown in encircling the house -in such a short time, when the sound of the latch caught my ear and I -turned to confront the same blue-clad figure. But was it the same? No, -this lad was larger. It must be a brother. He also passed through and -vanished with the peculiar sideways nod. Almost before I could wink an -eye, his double followed, using the identical gesture of his -predecessors. I turned to Dan, who was staring round-eyed after the -vanishing figure. Just as I opened my mouth to address him, the door -opened and a fifth youth appeared. He too was blue-eyed, blue-clad and -strikingly good to look upon. Dan rubbed his eyes; then ran his hand -through his thick curls. - -“That jolt must have done something to my brain,” he declared with a -worried look at me. “Do you see whole droves of kids, all looking the -same, all dressed the same, all acting the same, all going from the -front to the back of the house? First I thought a kid was running round -the house to fool us. Then I thought I was seeing double, but they keep -getting bigger all the time, till darned if I know what to think. What -in blazes do you suppose is the matter with me?” - -“It’s as much a mystery to me as it is to you,” I replied. “Whatever it -is, it affects us both the same way, for I saw them just as you did. -There were five, all dressed in blue, all with blue eyes and light hair, -and about the same size, though the first seemed the smallest and the -last the largest. At first I thought they were twins, but there could -scarcely be five twins.” - -At that instant the boy who had rescued us from the roadside appeared, -and as he advanced to speak to us, another lad, a size larger, entered -from the kitchen and was joined in a moment by boys number one, two, -three and four. The room was of fair size, but it seemed to overflow -with blue-clad youths. - -“Well, what do you think of my little brood?” cried the laughing voice -of our hostess, who had entered unobserved. - -“Are these all your boys?” I gasped, gazing at her still youthful face -and figure. “It doesn’t seem possible. I had about concluded that the -fall from the bicycle had affected my brain or my vision; I wasn’t sure -which.” - -“Indeed, they are all mine, and not all my family either. My two oldest -sons are still in the fields. I have nine in all. The eldest has just -turned twenty-three, while the youngest two are twelve. The next two are -twins also, and only fifteen months older.” - -As the lads were introduced, it seemed that a more remarkable, handsomer -group of youngsters would be difficult to find. In spite of the utmost -care, I was unable to identify the younger ones, so that they must -linger in my memory as a group. - -All were eager to be of service and assisted Dan in putting the tandem -in shape for further adventures. It was with regret that we bade them -farewell next morning, and I often think with envy of the happy mother -of such a delightful family. - -One evening we stood beside the railroad track while the Overland -Limited shot by. As we crossed behind the vanishing train, I saw a -strange object moving between the rails. Closer inspection disclosed a -large terrapin crawling over the ties as fast as he could scramble. I -gathered him up and took him back to Dan. - -“Now for some real turtle soup,” cried he, making a grab for the -creature. But the terrapin resented such tactics with so fierce a snap -that Dan, perforce, released him. - -Sitting beside the campfire that evening, I bored a hole in Mister -Turtle’s shell and attached a stout string. Next morning we rigged a -large square can atop the bedding roll and daily the turtle rode in -state on a bed of fresh leaves, while at night he was staked out in -whatever water was available. He attracted much attention along the way, -for his shell was very handsome, but his jaws proved to be so savage -that nobody dared to touch him but me. I named him Bird and, while -resting, would frequently take him from his bed and gently stroke and -tickle his neck or leg, which he would stretch out to be petted. - -Some time later we camped on the bank of the North Platte River and as -usual I staked Bird out at the edge of the stream. Next morning I was -busy with the laundry, so did not call for Mister Turtle until nearly -noon. What was my amazement to find him flat on his back at the extreme -limit of his string, while a large bird stalked round and round him and -aimed vicious pecks at the soft folds of skin between the edges of his -shell. I rescued my poor pet, who seemed completely exhausted, and, -conscience-stricken, loosed the string and gave him his liberty. A last -glance revealed Bird paddling down stream. He will surely be a -well-travelled turtle by the time he reaches the sunny south for which -he so boldly headed. - -The scene on the river seemed very charming after our hot and dusty ride -across the arid plain. Masses of wild roses in full bloom glowed against -the soft green background of willows. Birds had woven a hanging nest -over the water, and the little mother sat demurely on the eggs, while -her mate swung on a slender perch and fairly burst his throat with song. -They reminded me of some wrens a few miles back who had built their nest -in an abandoned mailbox, but I suppose they could scarcely belong to the -same species. In the rippling water beneath, fish of many sizes darted -to and fro, while a fitful breeze set the silvery foliage to glimmering. - -Reluctantly we said farewell to river and birds and roses and, skimming -over a long bridge, entered a sleepy little town. Here we loaded the -wheel to the limit with groceries, for the country grew wilder each day. - -The weather was fine and we were able to camp out in accordance with our -original plans. Still, we thought it best to follow the railroad as -closely as possible in the event of more rain and muddy roads. - -While boiling our cocoa in a lonely spot, our attention was attracted by -the fine soldierly figure of a man who stood on the railroad embankment -about fifty feet away, gazing down at us. He was dressed in khaki, -sombrero, and leggings, and seemed preternaturally tall, silhouetted on -the dull red evening sky. - -“Hello, comrade,” called Dan. “Want a bite to eat?” - -The man strode down the bank and approached our fire. He was tall -indeed, with the slim waist and long limbs of a track athlete. His -smooth, deeply-tanned skin set off his bright blue eyes and white teeth -to advantage as a real Tipperary smile curved his humorous lips. As he -removed his hat, a thatch of white hair added an incongruous touch to -his appearance. - -Squatting on his haunches like one accustomed to that posture, he -explained that he had just eaten a hearty meal, but accepted a cup of -cocoa to keep us company. After listening to an account of our -experiences, he stated that he was an ex-soldier, now walking from San -Francisco to New York on a wager. He had made the trip from east to west -in ninety days and was bent on returning in ten weeks. So far he had -made good time and felt confident of winning. With scant regard for the -property of the railroad company, he insisted on carrying a great pile -of old ties to a secluded spot and there started a bonfire. When I -considered the forty-odd miles that he had covered on foot that day, I -marvelled at the man. When the fire was blazing brightly, we settled -ourselves on the windward side for a real talk-feast. - -His most exciting adventure on this trip had occurred far out on the -desert when he had been accosted by three tramps, who demanded the -canteen of water that he carried on his shoulder. He unslung it with the -intention of sharing the precious fluid, but one attempted to snatch it -from his hand. As they struggled, another approached and struck him from -the rear with a rock. With a sudden sidelong leap, he wrenched himself -free, and swinging the canteen by the strap with all his force, let the -first man have it full in the forehead. The fellow went down without a -groan, and with a backhand motion, the soldier brought the canteen up -and around, striking the second tramp on the point of the jaw. His -companions out of commission, the third man took to his heels, while our -hero gathered up the first hobo, who still lay unconscious, and with the -aid of the second carried him to the railroad track and there flagged a -passing freight, which took the two tramps to the next town. - -As the evening advanced, the Irishman entertained us with descriptions -of the many strange corners of the world that he had visited in the -service of Uncle Sam, and told wild yarns of his experiences in the -Philippines and in China during the Boxer rebellion. After a last creepy -story of a looted temple and a dead Chinese priest, who came to life -while the foreign devils were holding high carnival, and walking into -their midst in his grave clothes, caused them to drop their spoils and -flee, we stretched ourselves beside the glowing coals and slept. - -The sharp cold of early morning awakened me, and heaping the ashes high -with dry wood, I kindled a fire and started breakfast. Our soldier -friend lay with head on knapsack, and in the deep relaxation of sleep -the harsh footprints of the years disappeared and his face looked pure -and boyish in the soft light of dawn. As he whimpered with cold and -weariness, I could scarcely restrain myself from easing his head with a -motherly touch, but contented myself with covering him with our -blankets. Breakfast concluded, we prepared to follow our diverging -paths. The soldier wrote a note to a pal at the military reservation at -Cheyenne, commending us to his care. Then, as we said good-bye, he -thrust the battered canteen into my hands. - -“Your need is to come, but mine is ended. Keep it in remembrance of me.” - -He lifted his hat and was gone. - - - - - ELEVEN - - ABOARD A MODERN PRAIRIE SCHOONER. - - - - - ELEVEN - - - _Aboard a Modern Prairie Schooner._ - -Dates are a thing of the past along with newspapers, street cars, -electric lights, the hope of a speedy arrival in California, and last, -but not least, our faithful companion, the stout, green tandem. And it -came about thus: - -We had reached a country of great level stretches, with grazing cattle -and raw looking farms, of infrequent water and distant ranges of bare, -blue mountains. Following a barbed wire fence, our road turned at right -angles to the north, whereas the way should have been open straight into -the west where a more fertile region was blazoned forth in masses of -green and long strips of yellow. - -We stopped at a rude cabin which crouched, mouse-like, at the turn in -the road, to fill the canteen. A woman, withered and sunbrowned and worn -by pathetically futile efforts to maintain a home in an unfriendly land, -answered my knock. She informed us that the fenced range that blocked -our path was part of a great holding to the south, which projected a -long tentacle to enfold a source of life-giving water far to the north. -Thus, we needs must make a great detour to reach the point to the west -of us where the highway again took up its march toward the setting sun. -This strip, it appeared, was but a scant three miles in width, and we -were at once filled with the idea of walking across instead of riding so -far around. After some manœuvring, we succeeded in crowding the wheel -beneath the barbed strands and set off across the prairie, which was -almost as hard and bare as the county road. We had not gone far when a -group of cattle caught sight of us and moved up to inspect the strange -intruders. These were followed by others, which seemed a signal to -hundreds. Soon a dense mass was tagging at our heels and spreading out -to right and left, while in the distance still more could be seen -lumbering up to join the herd. A peculiar prickling sensation began to -manifest itself in the region of my scalp. - -“Dear me, I do wish your sweater was blue instead of red,” I observed -nervously to Dan. “I believe it is making these cattle angry. Do you -suppose they really would attack us?” - -“No, of course not. They are perfectly harmless. They don’t know what to -make of us, that’s all, and their curiosity urges them up to take a good -look.” - -“Nevertheless, I noticed that he was quickening his pace. As for myself, -I scanned the distance to the boundary fence with anxious eyes. The -cattle, which at first had maintained a respectful distance, now began -to crowd closer. - -“Please, Dan,” I urged, “take off that sweater and hide it till we get -out of this pasture. I don’t like the sight of so many cows a little -bit.” - -“Rats, Ethel, don’t be a coward. Who’s afraid of a few cows?” - -He turned to wave his hat at the advancing animals, stepped into a -prairie dog burrow and came heavily to the ground. As he regained his -feet, his features twisted in pain and he caught at the handle bars. - -“Gee whiz,” he grunted, “I gave my ankle a beastly wrench. It hurts like -the devil.” - -Visions of dislocations, sprains, of incapacitation in this God-forsaken -spot, flashed before my brain as I sank to my knees to learn the extent -of the injury, the cattle for a moment forgotten. I unlaced the shoe, -and after a careful examination was delighted to find that it was -nothing worse than a sprain which would doubtless be well in a few days. - -“I’ll take the wheel and you sit down while I unpack the emergency kit -and get out the bandages,” I remarked, rising to my feet. “I’ll just put -on a——” The words froze on my lips. We stood in a ring of cattle less -than two hundred feet in diameter. They stood shoulder to shoulder, -heads down, noses to the ground, blowing, snorting, pawing, while here -and there some young bull would advance a step with tossing head, then -pause while the herd moved in to join him. Dan broke in on my -immobility. - -“We can’t stop to bother with my ankle now,” he muttered. “We must make -tracks out of here as fast as the Lord’ll let us.” - -He hobbled on a few steps, leaning on the tandem. At once the animals in -the rear moved forward, while those in front set up a peculiar moaning -bellow, which seemed to enrage the whole herd. The air vibrated with -their bawling. To my affrighted eyes the whole plain seemed a solid mass -of reddish backs and tossing heads. Fragments of what I had read and -heard of western cattle came to my mind. They would attack a man on -foot—a person on horseback was safe——. - -“Get into your saddle, quick,” I cried. “It’s our only chance.” - -I steadied the bicycle with a firm hand. “Just get on. I’ll start it.” - -Dan seated himself and grasped the handle bars, while with straining -muscles I bent desperately to the task of getting the heavy load in -motion. The tires seemed glued to the rough, uneven surface of the -prairie, and when at last with sobbing breath I was able to leap into -the front saddle, we were almost on the horns of a heavy animal that -blocked the way. But to hesitate meant death, so with a blood curdling -yell I headed full at his nose. He crowded aside, I swerved, and we -passed between the rows of cattle with room so scant that we almost -brushed the hairy flanks. I could hear the thunder of hoofs as the herd -got into motion behind us. The protecting fence seemed very far away. -Bushes slapped at us in passing. The difference between riding on even a -poor road and pedalling over this unsurfaced plain, level as it was, -became increasingly evident. And how to cross the fence to safety with a -crippled man and a laden wheel, even though we survived that long, was a -problem. The front wheel struck a sharp, projecting snag and air hissed -from the flattening tire. An instant later the rear tire also gave way, -but we pedalled desperately on, bumping along on the rims, which each -moment threatened to let us down. - -We were nearing the western boundary when I heard a shout and glancing -to the right saw a man on horseback tearing down the road in our -direction. He began swinging his hat and shooting in the air, and as the -wheel struck the fence, almost throwing me to the ground, his horse -reared to a stop directly before us. To help Dan through, slip under -myself and drag the wheel to safety was the work of a moment and I was -free to watch the herd as they swerved away to the south. - -“Gosh all hemlock, that was a close shave,” gasped the cowboy. “How in -Sam Hill did you all get into such a scrape?” - -As I started to explain, he noticed that Dan was lame. He leaped from -the saddle and in a trice had loaded Dan onto the horse. Then, giving me -a hand with the wheel, started briskly in the direction of a -thrifty-looking farm. - -We halted at last beneath a tree at the edge of the road. Dan let -himself down from his perch, and upon my firm assurance that we would be -all right, our rescuer resumed his interrupted journey. I kindled a -fire, brought water from a well, then sought the house, which stood well -back from the road, to secure the loan of a deep bucket. A timid little -woman accommodated me without demur; then followed curiously into camp. -At once I treated Dan’s ankle with a prolonged hot bath, followed by a -careful massage and the application of arnica-soaked bandages. The -little woman followed every motion with the keenest interest, and -discovering that I was a doctor, burst into a detailed account of an -accident that had befallen her young son. He had fallen from a tree and -sprained his wrist, which remained somewhat stiff. Would I be so kind as -to examine it and see what was wrong? This I agreed to do before -leaving, but for the present decided to make camp for the night, rest, -and calm my quivering nerves. - -Next morning Dan was able to get to work on the wheel, replacing the -ruined tires with extras purchased in Kearney for some such emergency. -Again we rested during the heat of the day, and resolved to resume the -journey next morning. - -The tandem was packed for the road when the farmer’s wife came hurrying -out to remind me of my promise regarding her boy. We entered the -farmyard, which swarmed with hogs of all sizes, and were led to an -enclosed shed where I shut in the wheel for safe keeping while we -entered the house. - -But the lad was nowhere to be found. After an hour of searching, the -mother, assisted by an older brother, dragged the patient, struggling -and howling, from his hiding place in the attic; then held him while I -discovered a slight displacement of one of the small bones of the wrist. -This I reduced after considerable trouble, due to the boy’s unruly -temper, and bandaged the arm as the clock struck eleven. The mother then -insisted that we stay to dinner and as Dan was still rather in need of -rest, we accepted gratefully. - -The head of the house, a great, burly, red-haired farmer, came in with -the oldest son, a perfect chip off the old block, and we sat down to a -repast of fried salt pork, fried potatoes, fried onions, hot biscuits -and coffee. - -The meal concluded, the whole family went out to see us off. As I -rounded the corner of the shed, I noticed the door which I had latched -so carefully, standing open. Then what a sight met my eyes! - -The wheel lay flat on the floor, groceries, bedding and equipment -scattered all about, while a shoving, grunting, struggling mass of hogs -rooted, trampled and fought over it. Chains were broken, tires torn from -the wheels, spokes out, skirt guard bent and twisted, while through and -over all was cocoa, sugar, coffee, plumbago, clothing, oil and pieces of -the repair kit. - -“Haw, haw,” roared the farmer, delighted with the novel sight. “Them -hawgs sure have made a mash on that there bicycle.” - -“Ya, hah. I fixed ’em, I fixed ’em,” shrieked my erstwhile patient, -jumping about in glee. The little woman burst into tears. - -Dan seized a heavy single-tree, which stood in a corner, and laid about -him fiercely, sending the squealing drove pell-mell from the building. -Before the farmer could stay his hand, he had laid low with a broken -back a fine young boar. A few moments later a sow showed evidences of -internal trouble, was taken with convulsions, and while we were -gathering up the almost hopeless wreck, laid down and died, much to the -grief of friend farmer, whose mirth was turned to mourning. Dan declared -that the sow had swallowed his razor and wanted to hold an autopsy on -the remains, but was forced to let the cause of death stand as acute -indigestion. - -The owner of the hogs cursed bitterly as we started to drag the poor old -wheel back to our little camp, where Dan spent a day and a half -endeavouring to repair it. But the case was hopeless. The good green -tandem would never take the open road again. - -The world seemed desolate that night as we sat beside our dying campfire -discussing the situation. The mournful call of some night bird through -the vast silence waked melancholy echoes in my lonely heart. The wind, -moaning across the barren plains, spoke of darkness, inchoate, -overwhelming. The stars seemed to stare coldly down upon the whirling -mote to which we poor humans cling so doggedly. A gleam from a lighted -window of the farmhouse only added to my feeling of isolation. I -visioned the thousands of family groups gathered round the evening -lamps, enjoying the cosy comforts of home, the sense of peace and -security that springs from a recognised place in society, the feeling of -love and protection, the intimate companionship, and opportunity for -service,—the mother with her sewing, the father with magazine or paper, -the children with school books or toys—all unwitting, unheeding, -uncaring, utterly indifferent to the fate of the thousands who roam the -highways even as we, having no place to lay their heads. These, outcast, -abandoned, wretched, are exiles from a land of plenty through no fault -of their own—their only roof, the threatening vault of heaven, their -only couch, the bare cold ground, their evening lamp some solitary -campfire. Their naked souls shudder in the relentless blast of endless -ostracism. - -Our little hoard of silver was running low. We knew by experience that -no work was to be had in this inhospitable land. Our only hope lay in -pressing forward. - -Early next morning we cooked a meagre breakfast, packed such articles as -were worth saving into two bundles, swung these on our shoulders and -were off. We had covered perhaps eight miles and Dan was beginning to -complain of his ankle when in the distance we sighted a little -settlement strung out along the railroad track. As we approached, I took -both bundles and turned toward the railroad station to wait while Dan -searched for work. - -As I crossed the right-of-way my attention was attracted by a man seated -on the ground, his back against a telegraph pole. As I walked past, he -raised his hat and spoke. - -“I would advise you to stay away from the depot, madam. The station -agent is having a little dispute with a couple of drunken cowboys. It is -scarcely the place for a lady.” - -“It is kind of you to warn me,” I replied. “It was my intention to wait -there for my husband, but we can scarcely miss one another in this -town.” - -The stranger sprang to his feet. “Permit me to offer you my telegraph -pole,” he exclaimed with a winning smile. Lifting one of the blanket -rolls, he placed it for a seat, and as I settled myself, sank down on -the other bundle and entered into conversation. - -He was a man on the sunny side of forty, tall, slender, but possessed of -evident strength. His mouth was at once humorous and stern, his nose, -high-arched with sensitive nostrils, gave him a cold, patrician air, -which one forgot when he spoke. Then white teeth flashed from his -sunbrowned face, and his eyes, of a peculiarly intense reddish-brown, -twinkled roguishly. Never had I listened to a more musical human voice. -With the utmost tact he led me to tell of our experiences. Soon he was -in possession of the salient features of our journey. - -“I am a sort of Ishmaelite myself,” he declared. “I take my home with -me. I pay no rent, no interest, no taxes. I do no worrying. I make no -plans. I dream no dreams. I enjoy all in the way of good living that a -human animal can hope for. When this civilisation is tottering to its -fall, I shall be safe in a mountain resort known to me alone, prepared -to round out my days in peace and comfort.” - -“Too bad that such a nice appearing man should be so crazy,” I said to -myself as he ceased speaking. As though in answer to my thought he burst -out laughing. - -“Oh, I’m not as crazy as I sound. At any rate, I’m mighty practical -about it, as I shall soon demonstrate to you. My modern prairie -schooner, a home on wheels, will be along presently, and then I hope to -initiate you into a rational method of living in an insane world. Yonder -the caravan approaches.” - -Following his gaze, I saw a team of mules hitched to a long, broad, -light spring wagon with a black cover like a heavy automobile top, -driven by a large fair woman, dressed in a yellow duster. Close behind a -young man followed with a team of horses attached to a smaller wagon or -buckboard. - -My acquaintance stepped to the side of the road and hailed the woman, -who halted at the edge of the right-of-way. After a brief conversation, -she turned the mules and moved off across the track. The man turned as -Dan approached and introduced himself at once. - -“My name is Adams—Frank Adams,” said he, “and I have been having a chat -with your good wife. As a consequence, there is a matter of business, a -little proposition that I would like to put up to you. But this is no -place to talk. Besides, the hour grows late and we must make -preparations for the night. I have directed my outfit to a camping place -in a grove of trees that I located this morning and I should be very -much pleased to have the two of you come over with me and enjoy a real -open-air dinner. Afterwards we’ll make ourselves comfortable and go -fully into my plan, which I have every reason to believe will result in -pleasure and financial benefit to us all.” - -Dan seemed favourably impressed by the stranger’s frank address. -Besides, there was nothing to hope for in our present situation. So he -picked up a bundle, our friend shouldered the other, and we were off for -the camping ground. - -As we entered the clump of trees, my eye was caught by a small chicken -coop with slatted bottom, which was suspended beneath the rear end of -the wagon bed. Our guide stepped forward and swung open the door. Three -fine young Plymouth Rock hens, who had been eagerly awaiting this -opportunity, fluttered out and began to peck and scratch vigorously. - -“This simple arrangement insures a few fresh eggs for emergencies,” Mr. -Adams informed me. “These hens are very tame and are quite accustomed to -this mode of living. Now and then, as to-day, we get a couple of fryers, -and sometimes a nice fat hen for roasting, which we confine in the rear -compartment until wanted. Thus we are seldom at a loss for fresh meat. -Just step around to the front and I’ll show you the cooking -arrangements.” - -At the front of the wagon we found the woman actively engaged in -preparations for supper. Our acquaintance informed her of our situation -in a few crisp sentences and without waiting for a formal introduction -she took up the task of enlightening us in the art of scientific -camping. She directed our attention to the dashboard which pivoted in -the centre on a horizontal axis to form a support or worktable that -could be used for dining purposes if necessary. A hood, which telescoped -under the front edge of the wagon cover, could be pushed forward on such -occasions, and by rolling down the curtains, perfect protection could be -secured from wind and rain. As we gazed, the young man brought a pail of -fresh water and set it in a metal ring which was clamped to a front -upright. The back of the seat was made in two parts, and to the back of -the left-hand one—formed of sheet metal—a gasoline stove with oven -attachment was fastened. The upright back revolved in such a way that -the stove faced the rear when the seat was occupied, but could be turned -to the front for cooking purposes. The housewife—camp-wife would be the -better term in this case—could sit in comfort in the right-hand seat and -secure everything required from the racks or from the boxes on the bed -of the wagon. With competent hands she opened the oven door and withdrew -a pan of cookies which flooded the air with a rich, spicy odour. These -she replaced with a pan of biscuits, then produced a large skillet of -broiling chicken from beneath the spreading burner which heated the -oven. A few deft touches and the savoury pieces went back for further -browning. - -“I generally make most of my preparations while travelling,” she -informed me. “The mules are so gentle that they amble along without much -driving and everything is so convenient that I can cook without stepping -from the rig. Even the water is handy.” She pointed to a heavy canvas -bag, beaded with moisture, which hung on the outside wall. - -The side walls within were fitted with ingenious racks like a kitchen -cabinet, and a little to the rear and close against the roof I discerned -the wire springs of a suspended bed. - -“Yes,” our host explained, in answer to my question. “The top framework -is of metal, made extra strong with a block and tackle arrangement for -hoisting the bed as soon as it is made each morning. The mattress and -springs were made to order and are very light. By disposing of it in -this fashion we gain free access to our stores which, as you see, fill -the bottom of the wagon. The horse feed is in the rear, our clothing -lies in the centre, and the food supplies occupy the front. We have -lived entirely out of doors, summer and winter, for two years now, and -have suffered practically no inconvenience from bad weather.” - -“I wouldn’t move into a house again for anything,” his wife exclaimed. -“You have no idea what a pleasant life this is. Housework is reduced to -almost nothing, we get a chance to see the country and are as free as -air.” - -“Don’t you find it rather crowded at times?” I asked. - -“Oh, no. Every few days we make a regular camp where we stay for a day -or two. Then I get out the portable oven, make a wood fire, bake bread -and cake, cook meat and vegetables, wash the clothes, and plan for the -next jump.” - -Our host went to the rear, lifted off the flat top of a fibre trunk, -unfolded a set of legs and set it up as a table. Then he lifted out the -seat from the second wagon, unloaded three folding camp chairs and -proceeded to set the table with white enamel dishes. - -Meanwhile, the young man, Peter Bates, had come in from caring for the -livestock, and was introduced. We all sat down to broiled chicken, -boiled potatoes warmed in gravy, hot biscuits and honey, stewed fruit, -cookies and tea. The food was delicious. - -“What do you think of the cooking?” enquired our host, serving us a -second helping of chicken. “Not many places where you can get meals like -this. We live on the fat of the land the whole year round, don’t we, -honey-drips?” - -“You’re quite right. That’s just what we do. And nothing to worry us, -either,” responded his wife. - -Mine host produced a bottle of port, while Bates brought out cigars. -They greeted our pleasant refusal to indulge with uplifted brows, and -when Dan passed by the perfectos as well Mr. Adams remarked: “And not -even a cigarette? You are a Puritan, if I may be pardoned for saying so. -Well, maybe we can do business in spite of handicaps.” He paused to -light a cigar, then lounged back in the wagon seat. - -“I’m a sort of sublimated pedler. I travel from town to town selling a -couple of styles of window signs, which our young friend Pete here, puts -up for me. Then, to insure continuous action, I take orders for a -special lamp and for handy tools—combinations, you know—in the country -districts. Thus I am never out of a job. The lamp orders are filled by a -mail order house in Chicago, as are the ones for tools, so that I carry -nothing but a sample. The signs consist of letters which are pasted on -the inner side of the window glass.... You’ve seen them many times. - -“Peter wants to quit us and push on to Cheyenne, and while I am -perfectly competent to put up the orders, I dislike to do so. Why work, -when I can profit from the labour of others? And that is where you come -in. I’ll get the orders and pay you so much for each sign that you put -up. In fact, I’ll even do better. If you are able to pick up an order -here and there, I’ll sell you the supplies for ten per cent above cost -to me. The work is easy. Any mechanical man with a true eye can manage -with a little instruction and a day or two of experience.” - -“Oh, yes,” young Bates broke in, “I’ve always been a clerk, but I had no -difficulty in getting the hang of this thing. I wanted to go to -Cheyenne, and this gave me a fine chance to see the country and make a -little dough on the side.” - -“A man with your experience and training should have no trouble at all -in making two or three dollars a day,” the boss continued. “And it -should be mostly velvet. Honey-drips has a little side line of her own. -She carries a few toilet accessories to sell to the ladies. In the -country districts the housewives are only too glad to have an -opportunity to get such things in exchange for butter, eggs, poultry, -vegetables, or even bread and canned fruit. We can always use the stuff -some way and it cuts the living expenses to almost nothing. I get horse -feed in exchange for tools and lamps, and often I can let the animals -graze for a day at a time. Now your wife can get a supply of these -female fixings for ten per cent above cost and make most of your living. -After you have played the game for a month or two and find you like it, -I’ll fix up that second wagon like this one here. We use it now for -trips off the main line where we don’t want to take the heavy outfit. - -“That’s the gist of the plan. Now, how does the scheme strike you?” - -“I’d be glad enough to get a couple of dollars a day over our living,” -replied Dan. “What do you think about it, Ethel?” - -“I believe it would be an excellent thing for the present, at least. Of -course, I won’t be satisfied till we get back to California, but we -should be able to save money enough to make the trip comfortably in a -few months if we manage carefully.” - -“Well, so far as getting to California is concerned,” observed Mr. -Adams, “we expect to arrive there about the middle of next December. We -will work the territory between here and Cheyenne, then swing down -across Colorado, pass through Arizona in November, and work California -in the winter months. Then if you have not come to love this life, as I -think you will, you can leave us and return to the old grubby -existence.” - -“Now, that will be splendid,” I cried enthusiastically. “We’ll not only -reach home, but we’ll see the country and save some money for a fresh -start—we’ll need all we can save before we get on our feet again, I’m -afraid.” - -“Very well, then, good people. We’ll consider the matter settled. You -can camp here to-night and begin to learn the ropes the first thing in -the morning.” - -The conversation turned on the day’s work and I gathered a fair idea of -the usual activities. Mr. Adams would take the light team and with Mr. -Bates push ahead, leaving Mrs. Adams to pursue a leisurely course with -the mules. The men struck the first little store they came to, or if the -country was very sparsely settled, they stopped at a farm. If they -secured a sign order from the store-keeper, Bates remained to place it, -depending on Mrs. Adams to pick him up as she passed. Meanwhile, Mr. -Adams drove on to solicit more orders, search out a suitable camping -place, and otherwise prepare for the coming of his party. This -particular morning Adams had left the light team with Bates, who was -busy with a sign, and had caught a ride in a passing buggy to the little -town where I had met him. Each day’s programme was the spontaneous -result of immediate needs. - -As we rose to say good-night, Mrs. Adams produced milk, eggs and -whiskey, and they prepared a customary night cap. I was startled by the -enormous draught of liquor poured out by our employer, who, noting my -surprise, remarked apologetically, “I’ve been a frightful sufferer from -insomnia for a number of years. That was one of the reasons which led me -to adopt this mode of living, but even the open air has failed to -relieve me. I’ve tried vigorous exercise, long walks, hot food and drink -on retiring, medicines—everything—and I’ve found my only relief in these -stiff jolts of whiskey. At times I am compelled to get up in the night -and find the bottle. But I never become intoxicated.” - -“I should think that sort of thing would ruin your digestion.” - -“Well, I take certain precautions. I always take my evening dram in the -form of an eggnog, and if I need a drink in the night, I take a large -cup of milk first, which seems to prevent any untoward effects.” - -We made camp at the far side of the grove and were up bright and early, -ready for the day’s work with the “California outfit,” as we dubbed the -new caravan. The three men set out with the buckboard, while Mrs. Adams -and I broke camp. After everything was packed and the mules hitched to -the wagon, my companion got out a few handfuls of chicken feed and soon -had the hens nicely settled for the day’s journey. Once the mules were -in the main road and headed in the right direction, she slipped the -lines into a patent clutch and began to unpack her wares. - -I was glad to find the goods of excellent quality and reasonable in -price. She gave me a few talking points for each article, told me how -much cash I should demand or about how much I could expect in trade. -Trading, she observed, was an art in itself and worthy of much study. -Stock was replenished by frequent orders to Chicago, the goods being -consigned to the larger towns along the route. Thus she would find a -fresh supply awaiting her at Sydney, Nebraska, and would there place an -order to be shipped to Cheyenne, Wyoming. - -I had familiarised myself with the most important details when we -approached a good-sized farmhouse. - -“Come in and watch me work this time, and at the next place you can try -it yourself,” she remarked, swinging the mules into the driveway. - -A weary-looking woman opened the door at our knock and brightened with -interest when she learned of our errand. She led the way to the closely -shut parlour, and flung open the old-fashioned blinds as Mrs. Adams -prepared her goods for inspection. After long consideration she laid -down the case with a sigh. - -“I’d just love to buy some of these things, but I haven’t a cent in the -house. My husband is working way over in the back lot and anyhow I’d -hate to bother him.” - -“Now, maybe you’d like to trade for what you want. I would be glad to -get some good, smooth potatoes or nice fresh vegetables if you have any -to spare.” - -“Oh, could I do that?” Her voice was eager as a child’s. “Come right -into the kitchen and see what you would like.” - -Inside of half an hour we were back in the wagon with a fine assortment -of vegetables. In fact, it seemed to me that we had much the best of the -bargain. In answer to some such observation, Mrs. Adams chuckled. - -“When I saw how that woman had been trained, I led her right along. She -has no idea of the value of money or of produce either. How can she, -when her husband never allows her a cent of spending money? The kind of -women who must always beg for every calico dress and pair of shoes, go -wild when they have a chance to trade for themselves. You should do as -much business as possible with them—take anything they have—get flour or -sugar if there is nothing else on hand. String ’em along and you can get -a wagon load of groceries for a dollar’s worth of goods.” - -Privately registering a determination to do nothing of the kind, I -observed, “I should think their husbands would find out about that sort -of thing and make trouble.” - -“Don’t worry, we’d be well out of the way before they could find out -anything about the business.” - -“I wasn’t thinking about you and me, but about the farmer’s wife. Seems -to me she has troubles enough without our adding to her burdens.” - -“Now, you got to learn the first principles of this business, and the -main thing is to look out for number one. Skin the other woman every -chance you get. Lots of times they’ll stick you and by minding your own -business, you’ll come out about even in the end. And you needn’t think -there is anything new in a wife’s selling the groceries out of the house -to get a few nickels to spend for herself. Why, when I lived in——” She -stopped abruptly, then resumed. “Most grocerymen have cases of women who -make a habit of padding the bills to get a few dollars returned on the -sly. It’s all in the game, and you’ve got to play your end of it.” - -“Well, I can’t say I like that kind of a game,” I declared decidedly. “I -hope the day will come soon when men and women will develop a new -psychology along those lines. The first thing that should be settled -after a couple become engaged is the money question. They should have a -definite understanding as to how the money is to be spent after -marriage, and the girl should see to it that she never drifts into a -position where she must plead with some man for what rightfully belongs -to her.” - -“That sounds very pretty, my dear, but most girls are glad enough to -catch a man without taking chances by arguing over money matters—they’re -too scared of being old maids.” - -“That’s mostly the fault of their training or, I should say, lack of -training. So long as they are led to consider marriage the whole end and -aim of life, I suppose they’ll go on getting into situations where they -are compelled to cheat and steal and lie to secure a few paltry nickels. -If I had a daughter, I should see that she was fully equipped to become -a self-supporting, self-respecting member of society, a woman who would -not look upon marriage as the only possible solution of life’s -problems.” - -Mrs. Adams rolled her eyes in horror. “Good gracious, woman, you talk -like one of these here suffragettes. If I had a girl that talked like -that I’d disown her. Why, you want to break up the home!” - -“If financial independence for women means breaking up the home, then -let it be broken. Poverty and the economic dependence of woman on man is -the curse of the whole sex relation. It extends from the society matron -who caresses and fawns upon a husband whom she loathes in order to -wheedle him into the gift of a diamond necklace, a new mansion or other -extravagance, through all the middle class women who lie and cheat and -steal the household goods to get spending money, on down to the -daughters of the poor who are forced to sell their bodies in order to -exist. We frown upon European marriages, but expect our own girls to -make good matches, marry for a home, do anything to catch a man. Faugh, -the thought makes me ill. If we support the American idea of matrimony, -then we must admit that the only proper basis for marriage is love. If -we are to have free men, we must have free women who refuse to sell -themselves for a home, social position, or material gain in any form -whatsoever. We must adopt a single standard of morals, and abolish -prostitution, both within and without the marriage relation.” - -“Why—why, you—I’m surprised at you,” stuttered my companion. “I never -heard a woman speak such words before. Such talk is indecent, that’s -what it is, indecent.” - -“The truth is often considered indecent, I believe, especially the naked -truth. Like the human body, it needs to be concealed by a peek-a-boo -waist of prudery and licentiousness.” - -“Stop, stop, not another word.... Such language is positively -shocking ... not fit for a decent woman to listen to.” - -At this point in this most shocking conversation, the mules headed for a -wretched two-room shack that stood a little away from the road. To me -the place appeared too poverty-stricken for hope of business, but our -driver let the mules have their way. - -A frowsy woman was carrying two heavy pails of water from a well near -which stood a cesspool, a ramshackle shed for stock and a great heap of -refuse. The dooryard swarmed with dogs, hogs and children. A sallow -girl, gathering corncobs for the fire, loosed her loaded petticoat and -dashed forward to greet us. Mrs. Adams seized her sample case and -leaving the mules to their own devices, scrambled from the wagon. I -followed meekly. - -The farmer’s wife set down her dripping burden, wiped her hands on her -tattered apron and proffered us a brimming dipper. Thirsty as I was, I -felt impelled to decline—the well’s environment did not appeal to my -taste. No sooner were we within the house, than Mrs. Adams opened -negotiations for a side of bacon. - -“We’ve got some extry bacon, but I dunno about sparin’ none. My old -man’s aiming to take some into town to trade in a day or two and I dunno -what he’d say if I let go of a side.” - -“Oh, Maw,” broke in the oldest girl, who had been examining our display -with longing eyes, “never mind what Paw says. If he trades the side -meat, he’ll just get drunk on the money. He always does.” - -“You shut your mouth and don’t go talking about your Paw.” The mother -gave the girl a sharp slap on the ear as she spoke. - -The child’s face crimsoned. “I don’t care. It ain’t right. We don’t ever -do anything but work, work, work, and Paw, he never works. Then -everything goes for hateful old booze. It ain’t right.” - -“Now, now, Mandy, you orta treat your Paw with respect. I can’t see -what’s getting into the young ones these days, especially the girls. -Mandy here, bellered her head off cause we let Jeffie, that’s our -oldest, stop last winter with my brother Jed to go to school. She -thought she orta gone too.” - -“Jeff’s had two years more in school now than I’ve had, and still I’m -ahead of him.” - -“That’s all the more reason why you orta stay home and work. Jeffie’s a -boy and needs schoolin’, while you’re a——” - -“You’re quite right,” Mrs. Adams interrupted; “a girl don’t need much -book learning. She wants to learn to cook and sew and take good care of -her house so she can make some man a good wife.” - -“Yes, so she can plough and harrow and husk corn and carry swill to the -hogs while her man goes to town and gets drunk. I hate men. I hate men.” -The girl’s eyes blazed. - -“Get out that door, you ungrateful hussy, or I’ll give you a good -lambasting.” The child burst into tears as her mother pursued her from -the untidy living room. “I can’t see what’s got into the child. She’s -always been such a comfort to me—worked since she was knee high to a -duck. Seems like she’s dead set on going to school, but I can’t spare -her. Why this spring, she and I put in eighty acres of corn with our own -hands, besides milking seven cows and all the other work. I’ve only got -the one boy; he’s the oldest in the family. I aim he should have an -education, but Jeffie hates school. Mandy can learn as much in eight -weeks scattered through the winter term as he can in a year, but the -spite of it is she’s only a girl and don’t need schoolin’.” - -“You’re very wise to keep her with you. A woman’s place is in the home. -Now, don’t you think it would be a good idea to trade me that bacon? -It’ll make the girl contented to get these things she wants and she’ll -forget all about that fool notion of going to school. She needs stuff -like this to attract the boys. You make the trade and then figure out -some way of pulling the wool over the old man’s eyes.” - -“Well, maybe I can manage some way. I orta get something for the poor -child, I suppose. Paw’ll raise Cain, but he does that anyhow. Now, -what’ll you let me have for a good fat side of bacon?” - -Leaving the two women to conclude the bargain, I stepped outside and -sought Mandy. The poor girl seemed only too glad to find a sympathetic -soul to confide in. - -She was sixteen years old, she said, and although her opportunities for -study had been so limited, she had managed to keep up with her classes -by studying every spare moment. For the past two years her teacher had -taken a special interest in her and had advised and helped her in every -possible way. She had a great ambition. It was to become a school -teacher and thus be able to help her mother and younger sisters. - -“Toots is past fourteen and strong for her age,” she concluded, “and May -is twelve. They could help Maw out if I was gone. If I could only have -Jeff’s chance—just have some place to live while I went to school. But -Maw won’t hear of it. I just don’t know what to do. It’s not for me -alone, it’s all the little ones. Paw gets worse all the time, and Jeff’s -got no ambition. I got to succeed to save the family.” She squared her -wiry little shoulders as though to support the world. - -“Sometimes people are willing to take a good, strong girl and let her -earn her board and keep while she goes to school by working mornings and -nights and holidays. It’s a pretty hard way to live. A girl must be a -servant and never gets any fun. Would you want to do that?” - -Mandy stretched out her browned and calloused hands. “Do you see those -paws? I’ve milked cows and curried mules and ploughed and suckered corn, -to say nothing of washing dishes and packing wood and water and such -like, all without any hope at all. Give me a chance to earn an education -and I’ll work these fingers to the bone and be glad to do it.” - -“Well, I can’t promise you anything definite, but I meet lots of people -and I’ll see what I can do. If I do find a place, how’ll I let you -know?” - -“I’ll give you the address of Mrs. Cummings. That’s where my teacher -boarded. You can send a letter there for me and she’ll see that I get it -safely. Oh, if you’ll only get me a chance!” - -“Are you sure you have the courage to leave your home in the face of the -opposition of your father and mother and go away alone to work in some -stranger’s kitchen? You’re under age, too, you know, and if your parents -can find you, they can force you to return. You’ll have to cut yourself -off from them for two whole years.” - -“Yes, I can do it. I swear to you, I will do it—cross my heart and hope -to die. I wouldn’t leave my mother, if I didn’t feel sure it’s for her -own good. I can do so much for her when I get to be a teacher. You’ll -try to get me a chance, won’t you?” - -I promised to do my best. - -As Mrs. Adams came out of the door with her side of bacon, Mandy dashed -inside, and returned in a few moments with a piece of paper which she -slipped into my hand. - -“Here’s the address,” she whispered. “You won’t forget, will you? -Please, please, don’t forget.” - -With a few reassuring words I bade her good-bye and took my place in the -wagon. - -“That good-for-nothing hussy of a girl will come to a bad end, you mark -my words,” Mrs. Adams said spitefully, as I turned to wave my hand to -the plucky little figure standing in the dust of the roadside, “but I -suppose you think she’s real cute, running down her poor old father.” - -We jogged along in silence for some time, then, as we approached a -prosperous-looking farm, my employer suggested that I try my hand at the -game. With sinking heart I dragged my reluctant feet up the path, but -was surprised and reassured by the warmth of my reception. Unlike the -city dweller, the average country woman rather welcomes the call of a -peddler. I was fortunate in more ways than one, for my customer had -money and made a large selection, so that I was enabled to pay for my -goods and retain sixty-five cents to jingle in my pocket. - -For the rest of the day, we took turns at the farmhouses and by night I -had quite a supply of food, which represented clear profit, as I had -paid for the toilet articles in produce. Dan and I had determined to -attend to our own culinary operations instead of boarding with Mrs. -Adams, as had been suggested. We felt that we could save more money, and -while our table was not elaborate, it satisfied our needs very nicely. - -About five o’clock we overtook the men, and following their direction, -soon arrived at the camping place. - -The evening meal concluded, Dan and I were sitting beside our little -fire, comparing the day’s experiences, when Mr. Adams strolled over and -threw himself down beside us. After some desultory conversation, he -plunged into a philosophical discussion. - -“Have you ever made a study of Nietzsche?” he demanded. - -“I’ve tried to read him, but with little success,” I replied. “His -philosophy is so revolting to me, that I can scarcely pass an unbiassed -judgment on him.” - -“You surprise me. I consider Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche the greatest -genius and the most profound philosopher that the world has yet -produced. His work is so free from sentimental mush, his attitude is so -clearly scientific, he shows none of the weakness that comes from....” - -“Oh, Frankie, love, come quick. I need you.” It was the voice of our -friend’s fair partner. He rose slowly to his feet and bade us -good-night. - -“I have a hunch that Honey-drips does not care for philosophy,” observed -Dan, as we rose to turn in for the night. - -The next few days were uneventful. Mr. Bates took a train for Cheyenne, -leaving Dan to handle the sign orders alone. We had accumulated an -abundant supply of farm produce of all kinds, in fact, we were -overstocked in some lines, so that Mr. Adams suggested a change of -programme. Instead of riding behind the mule team, I now go with the men -in the buckboard, and while Mr. Adams solicits sign orders, and Dan puts -them up, I canvass the towns where my goods sell for cash. - -The drives seem but half as long as before, thanks to the superior speed -of the horses and the pleasant banter of Mr. Adams, who is a most -interesting conversationalist. - -The man is a wonderful study. He often starts to speak of some personal -experience and breaks off in the middle of the first sentence. He never -has given me the least hint of his earlier life, but I feel sure that he -is a college man. There must be some mystery in his life. I spoke of my -beliefs to Dan. - -He replied, “The only mystery that I see is that he is falling in love -with you, and that’s not much of a mystery either. Honey-drips sees how -the wind blows and loves you like a rattlesnake.” - -I indignantly denied the allegation, for Mr. Adams’ conduct had been -exemplary. But Dan refused to retract his unjust words, so I determined -to keep my opinions to myself. - - - - - TWELVE - - _July 12th, 1908_, - SYDNEY, NEBRASKA. - - - - - TWELVE - - - _July 12, 1908. Sydney, Nebraska._ - -We had worked a small town a half day’s drive east of Sydney, where -pressing business awaited Mr. Adams’ immediate attention. Dan had a -number of sign orders to fill and Mrs. Adams some culinary duties to -perform, so it came about that Mr. Adams and I drove ahead with the -buckboard, leaving the others to finish their tasks and follow. - -We rose early and began our journey as the rose and opal tints of dawn -were disappearing in the mounting flood of sunlight. The air was cool -and bracing and the horses cavorted with delight as we spun past the -scattering outposts of the village and took the white, winding road -across the western plain. - -Mr. Adams set me down at the edge of town and headed for the express and -telegraph office, while I prepared for peddling. He was out of sight -before I realised that we had not touched the lunch that was in the -buckboard, although it was after one o’clock. I hadn’t a cent with me, -for I had put all the money available into an order for special goods, -which Mr. Adams was going to send east. Making change might prove -awkward at first, but I could only do my best. I selected the most -prosperous street and set resolutely to work. - -At the first three houses the inmates refused to open the door, although -I could see them peering at me from within. - -“Nothing to-day,” exclaimed the fourth housewife before I could open my -mouth. - -I was growing very thirsty and as I walked up a flower-bordered path to -a vine-covered veranda, I decided to ask for a drink of water without -mentioning my wares. A sharp-nosed woman answered my ring. - -“Please, madam, could I trouble you for a drink of water?” I asked. - -“You can’t play any of your tricks on me,” she replied spitefully, -slamming the door in my face. - -As I walked slowly through the yard, I saw a pleasant-faced young -Swedish girl at work on the back porch of the large house next door. - -“She’ll surely give me a drink,” I said to myself. She greeted me with a -smile as I made known my wants and in a moment I was quenching the -thirst which had grown unendurable. As I set down the glass she noted my -sample case. - -“You bane sell someting?” she enquired with a wide smile. - -With eager hands she fell upon the toilet articles as I opened the case. - -“Yaw, yaw,” she cried. “I bane want someting long, long tam. Youst wait. -I got money.” - -She disappeared into the house. - -I was laying out her selections when a harsh voice startled me. - -“How dare you sneak into my home and take up the time of my maids? Leave -this house instantly.” - -I whirled around, too amazed to speak. A large, pompous woman was -standing in the inner doorway, motioning me out with a be-ringed hand. - -“But—but madam,” I stammered, “your maid wants to buy some of these -articles. She has gone to get the money.” - -“I’ll not have you cheating my servants. Go away from here.” - -The girl appeared at that moment, but her mistress blocked the door. - -“Hulda, you stay right where you are. Shame on you, wasting valuable -time on a tricky pedler. What do you suppose I pay you wages for?” - -“Oh, mam. I ban long tam want....” - -“That will do. That will do. I don’t want any of your saucy talk. You -are paid to do the housework, so get at it.” She turned on me. - -“Get off these premises at once. You may be able to swindle these -ignorant foreigners, but you can’t impose on me. Go now, or I’ll call -the constable. The very idea, crowding yourself right into people’s -homes, talking to their servants, impudent....” - -She was still raving as I passed out of hearing. The day was very warm. -I was dusty and tired and hungry. Aimlessly I followed the street till -it terminated in a country road and finally sank down by the roadside, -too weary and disheartened to think clearly. - -I was roused by the sound of pattering hoofs and glancing up, saw a team -of grey Indian ponies, attached to a light buckboard, come scampering -around a curve. They shied sharply at sight of my recumbent figure, -reared and tried to break into a run. Their driver drew them in with -masterly skill, and circling through the weeds and brush, returned to -learn the cause of the fracas. She was a tall, strong woman, with an -aquiline nose and iron grey hair. The smile with which she greeted me as -I approached the wagon was very winning. - -“Is there something the matter? Are you ill or hurt?” she inquired, -leaning toward me with kindling eyes. - -“No, just tired and a bit blue, I guess. It didn’t seem worth while to -walk any more, so I dropped right down here.” - -“Pardon me, but aren’t you a stranger to these parts? I don’t recall -seeing you before. In these little towns we generally know every one, at -least by sight.” - -“Yes, I arrived only a couple of hours ago, but I know this town pretty -well already.” - -She searched my face as though seeking the true meaning of my words; -then her eyes fell on my sample case, which was still clutched in my -left hand. - -“Oh, you are selling something,” she exclaimed. “What is it, books?” - -“No, not books. And I’m not selling anything either—not in this town.” - -“Oh, so that’s it. You must have started on the wrong street. Suppose -you jump in with me and ride out to the house. Maybe it will change your -luck.” - -I hesitated for a moment, my usual faith in human nature somewhat shaken -by recent experiences. - -“Come on, now. Jump in. I’ll bring you back to wherever you want to go, -whenever you are ready.” - -I walked around the wagon and clambered in. The ponies bounded forward, -and away we flew, winding up among low, rolling hills, until we came to -a small house perched on the side of a knoll. Care of the team had -occupied my companion’s attention to the exclusion of conversation until -we had entered the house. Then, as she set out a substantial -lunch—afternoon tea, she termed it—we began to get acquainted. - -Mrs. Holiday’s home was in Cheyenne, but her husband owned this large -stock ranch, which led them to make frequent visits to Sydney. - -As evening approached, she declared her intention of driving into town -after Dan and keeping the two of us as long as our business permitted us -to remain in the neighbourhood. Leaving me to devour a tableful of -newspapers and late magazines, the first I had seen in months, she sped -away with her frisky team and returned with Dan, who had grown quite -accustomed to my peculiar way of making myself at home in unusual -places. As they drove into the yard, Mr. Holiday rode in from the range -and we all were soon on a most friendly footing. - -Mr. Adams had already left a couple of sign orders with Dan to put up -the next morning, but instead of going into town with him to resume my -interrupted labours as a pedler, I decided to take a day off to wash and -mend our clothing and incidentally starch my crumpled courage by an -interchange of confidences with my hostess, who possessed a peculiarly -invigorating temperament. - -Her early years had been full of privations and severe struggles to gain -an education. She had become a high school teacher, but her health -failed, forcing her to seek the high altitudes of the Rockies. Here she -had met and married Mr. Holiday, a well-to-do cattle man, and they had -built a home in Cheyenne. One child—a girl—was born to them, but she had -died some two years previously. Since her death the mother had been -almost mad with loneliness, finding her chief consolation in mothering -the calves and colts and other young creatures of the range. - -She was greatly interested in the history of our experiences, and as I -was telling her the story of Mandy of the corn fields, she suddenly -leaned forward with sparkling eyes. - -“Give me the address of that Mrs. Cummings. I’m going back there and if -she is half the gritty little heroine that you make her out to be, I’ll -bring her home with me and see that she gets the best education that -money can buy. Maybe I’ll take one or two of the other children, too.” - -“But ... but maybe their mother will object,” I faltered. - -“It won’t do her a bit of good if she does,” Mrs. Holiday replied -firmly. “I always get what I go after. You know, when I saw you beside -the road yesterday, I felt impelled to take you home with me. I believe -in that kind of instinct—intuition—fate—call it what you will. That -little Mandy will be my girl. I can teach her so much. It will be like -renewing my youth. Of course, she’ll go to school in Cheyenne, too, and -later to college if she likes. Oh, I’ll get her—rest assured of that. -It’s mostly a question of money, anyway.” - -I handed over the address without another word. Yes, it would be largely -a question of money with that drunken father and ignorant mother, and it -would be a wonderful opportunity for Mandy. - -The workings of fate are marvellous to contemplate. If that old harridan -of a woman had not ordered me from her house, I would not have wandered -out into the country and met Mrs. Holiday. Then Mandy would not have had -her chance. Thus, the harridan woman is clearly seen to be but an -instrument of a benign Providence. Should she be censured for an act -that results in so much good? I put the question to my companion, who -laughed as I told her the story. - -“You were unfortunate in that you began operations in the fashionable -quarter of our fair city. I know the woman you describe. She is the -shining light of local clubdom, the greatest society leader here. She -would be highly insulted at the idea of serving as an instrument of -Fate. Why, she would not be the servant of the Almighty himself—if she -can’t boss the job, she won’t play.” - -“It must be rather hard on the maid,” I observed. - -“Well, she’s notorious for the way she handles her servants. She gets -these green foreigners fresh from the old country, and keeps them penned -in her kitchen so long as they will endure it. They are taught to cook -and wash and all that, but she pays next to nothing, and does her best -to prevent their learning decent English or mingling with their kind. -She is a fine person to talk of swindling ignorant foreigners. A worse -exploiter of unfortunate servant girls it would be difficult to find. - -“But to-morrow I’ll take you into another part of town, over where the -human people live, and probably you will do quite well.” - -She was a good prophet, for I have succeeded in clearing nearly five -dollars during the last few days. It will be with keen regret that I -leave my newfound friend to-morrow morning and take the road again with -the California outfit. - - - - - THIRTEEN - - _July 23rd_, - CHEYENNE, WYOMING. - - - - - THIRTEEN - - - _July 23rd. Cheyenne, Wyoming._ - -Alas, for our dreams of a comfortable journey home; alas for our -expectation of seeing the country; alas, too, for our hopes of saving -money for a fresh start in the world. We face mountains and desert with -nothing but a grim determination to win or die. - -After we left Sydney, Mrs. Adams abandoned herself to a mounting -jealousy, which became increasingly evident to us all. The hours that I -was forced to spend with her behind the ambling mules, were torture. She -took advantage of every opportunity to annoy and humiliate me, so that -every atom of my patience and control was needed to avoid a scene. But -my best efforts availed nothing with the woman. We had been travelling -through a very sparsely settled region some twenty-five or thirty miles -east of Cheyenne when the affair came to a climax. About eleven o’clock -I left Mrs. Adams waiting in the country road while I called at a farm -house, which stood some distance away in a clump of trees. She had -refused to drive in as usual, but had ordered me to go in and trade for -or purchase some fresh eggs. When I reached the house no one was at -home, and after considerable search in the outbuildings, I returned -empty handed to the road, only to find the wagon gone. Dust was rising -in the distance and I could just see the black wagon top as the mules -pulled slowly over a rise. - -My blood was boiling as I set off down the road at a jog trot, expecting -to overtake the slow-going mules in the first mile or so. I was within -hailing distance of the team when Mrs. Adams glanced back, whipped the -animals into a lively trot, and with an insulting gesture coolly -outdistanced me. - -“Very well,” I said to myself, steadying my pace. “I’ll walk no further -than the first water. Then I’ll rest until night. Dan will come into -camp and miss me. He’ll take the buckboard and start hunting. And when -we finally come up with that woman there will be something doing.” - -But water is scarce in that country, and at last I sat down in the -sparse shade of a clump of bushes to wait for a rescue. It came much -sooner than I expected, for it was not more than three o’clock when I -was roused from a light doze by a cheerful halloo and sprang up to see -Mr. Adams reining in the horses. He leaped down in a jiffy, brought out -the oozing canvas bag of water that he always carried in this desert -country and handed me a delicious draught. - -“Get right into the rig, and I’ll unpack your lunch,” he exclaimed -solicitously, assisting me over the wheel. “I only learned of this -infernal outrage by accident. I landed a rather unusual order this -morning and, leaving your husband on the job to sketch the -preliminaries, drove back to meet the wagon and rush along the necessary -supplies. What was my surprise to find you missing. My wife and I had a -beautiful row while I was putting up this lunch and starting back to -look for you. She’s gone ahead now, to take that new lot of letters to -your husband.” - -He had turned the team around as he spoke and was driving rapidly along -the western track. Then I looked up from my meal in surprise, for he had -swung into a narrow trail leading away to the north. - -“What’s the idea?” I inquired. “Aren’t you taking the wrong turning?” - -“There is a little spring up here a mile or so where we’ll stop to feed -and water the horses. They’ve been jogging pretty steadily since early -this morning.” - -It was true. The poor beasts were in need of food and water, and I was -glad when we drew up at a tiny stream, which flowed through the bottom -of a ravine, where we could enjoy the protecting shade of a few -straggling willows. Mr. Adams unharnessed the sweat-stained animals, -allowed them a swallow or two of water and spread a flake of baled hay -for them to munch until cool enough to eat their grain. I had settled -myself beneath a tree and had just finished my lunch when he threw -himself down beside me. - -“Ethel,” he began, “you are too fine a woman for the kind of life you -are leading. I love you, dear. Won’t you let me take you away and give -you all the beautiful things that belong to you?” - -I gazed at him a moment in silence. “Aren’t you forgetting yourself, Mr. -Adams?” I inquired coldly. “How about your wife?” - -“Oh, that woman. She is not my wife, and she has no hold on me whatever. -Why she was running an assignation house in Detroit when I picked her -up. Let her go back where she came from.” - -“And you can live with a woman for more than two years, share the -burdens of the road, eat at the same campfire, travel with her as your -wife, and then dismiss her with a wave of the hand? You may consider -yourself free perhaps, but I am a married woman and, besides, I love my -husband.” - -“You think you love him, no doubt, and maybe you do—now. But who knows -how long that love will last? You yourself admit that love is the only -legitimate basis for marriage. Your love for your husband may die -to-morrow as the love of thousands of other women has done. Love is free -as the wind, it comes and goes without reason, without warning, without -restraint. - -“Now, I am rich. I flatter myself that I know the world. I will aid you -to a divorce and obtain one myself. After marriage we will travel, visit -Florence, Naples, drink in all the myriad beauties of the Old World. If -you have ambitions, I will help you to achieve. I will gratify your -tastes for music, art, literature; I will free those wonderful impulses -that throb beneath that calm exterior—those sensuous instincts to which -your lout of a husband is so totally oblivious.” - -I sprang to my feet. “That will be all, if you please. Don’t say another -word.” - -I busied myself with the horses. He placed their grain, then drew close -to me. - -“My God, Ethel. I love you, girl, love you, do you hear? Give me just a -little chance, won’t you?” - -He caught my hand and pressed it to his lips. I wrenched it away -roughly, and looked about in desperation. The long shadows of late -afternoon lay among the hills; the country was wild and rugged—not a -human habitation in sight. I was absolutely alone with this maniac. I -turned with resolute mien. - -“See here, my friend. If you love me even half as much as you say you -do, you will cease your insulting proposals, hitch up this team and take -me back to civilisation. You will make me hate you, if you keep on as -you are doing.” - -He stood motionless, staring at me with sombre eyes. Then, as I began to -place the harness on the horses, he came to my assistance, and together -we watered them and hitched them to the buckboard. - -We drove home in silence and reached camp just as Dan came whistling -down the road. It was plain that my husband knew nothing of my desertion -by Mrs. Adams that morning, and I was in no condition to tell him -anything coherent. I stood like a wooden Indian as he seized me around -the waist with a bearlike hug. - -“Good news,” he cried. “To-day’s work brings our credit with the old man -up to an even fifty dollars. Not so bad for a poor hobo, is it, now?” - -He caught sight of my face and became all sympathy. “Why, sweetheart, -what’s the matter? Are you sick?” - -“N-no, not sick exactly,” I faltered, with lips that persisted in -quivering a trifle. - -“Well, you look awfully queer, some way. Has that old cat been bothering -you again?” - -“Yes,” I murmured. “She’s pretty mean, and it’s been so hot, and I—oh, I -guess I’m about played out.” - -He gently led me to a spot as far removed from the Adams’ camp as -possible, made a couple of trips to the wagons and brought back our -bedding, a few cooking utensils and some food for supper. Then he -induced me to lie down, while he built a fire and prepared the meal. - -“Poor little girl,” he murmured. “I know all this is mighty rough on -you, but if I can only keep on as I’ve been doing for the past three -weeks, it won’t be so very long till we can ride the cushions home in -comfort. Meantime, leave the old cat alone as much as possible, and try -not to take the situation too seriously.” - -It seemed that I had scarcely fallen asleep when I was awakened by a -consciousness of something wrong. The night was dark, but judging from -the stars, it was about midnight. What was it that had aroused me? I lay -still and listened. - -There came a tinkling of trace chains from the other side of the big -cattle pen where the Adams’ camp lay. Pshaw, it was only one of the -mules, nosing around the camp in search of fruit parings, as he often -did. I lay back reassured and dozed once more. - -Again that premonition came; that peculiar instinct that thrills one -into vivid wakefulness in the midst of quiet slumber. Again I sat up -with a start. Again I heard mysterious noises from the direction of the -other camp. I took my husband by the arm. - -“Dan, Dan,” I hissed. “Wake up. I hear something.” - -He grunted, groaned, stretched himself and sat up. “What’s the matter, -Ethel?” he muttered sleepily. - -“I don’t know what it is, but I feel sure there is something wrong. This -is the second time I’ve waked up feeling this way.” - -“Something wrong! What do you mean? What’s wrong?” - -“That’s just it. I don’t know what it is, but there is something the -matter at the Adams’ camp.” - -“I don’t hear anything—you must have been dreaming——Don’t you feel well? -I’ll get you a drink of water.” He jumped up and searched around for a -cup. - -“What’s the matter, folks? Did the noise disturb you?” It was the -cheerful voice of Mr. Adams. - -“Oh, Ethel’s got a notion that the bugaboos are after her,” answered -Dan. - -“She heard that mule, I suppose. Jack tried to get into the grain as -usual and got tangled in the harness. I just finished straightening him -out.” - -“Anything I can do to help you, old man?” Dan called. - -“No, thank you. Everything is all right now. Go back to bylo land and -never mind if you hear me fussing around. I’m going to take a -high-ball.” - -Once more we lay down, and this time I slept soundly. I was awakened by -a shout from Dan, who had risen and dressed without disturbing me. The -sun was well up, but the camping ground was unaccountably silent. There -was no sound of cackling hens, or of stamping, munching horses and -mules; no smoke rose from the other side of the cattle pen. - -“Ethel, Ethel,” Dan was calling. “Come here, quick.” - -I wrapped a blanket about me and ran to him, then stopped in -consternation. - -The California outfit was gone. - -Gone also were our odds and ends of equipment, saved from the wreck of -the wheel, my emergency case, a change of clothing, all the groceries -and provisions that I had worked so hard to accumulate, and last, but -not least, gone were the fifty dollars, left in Mr. Adams’ hands for -safe keeping, over which we had been rejoicing the night before. - -Dan was stamping about like a madman shouting, “I’ll kill the —— I’ll -get the law on him.” - -He followed the wagon tracks to the main road, but it was impossible to -tell in which direction they had gone. As he returned, he picked up the -old battered canteen, given me by the ex-soldier as a keepsake, which -had evidently slipped from the wagon as it jolted over the uneven -ground. - -Together we wandered back to our little camp. We still had our blankets, -a few cooking utensils, a partly used box of cocoa, a little sugar, part -of a can of sweetened condensed milk, and a few scrappy remains of the -evening meal. - -After making an unsatisfactory breakfast, we cast up accounts to -determine our line of action. I had nearly five dollars in silver in a -concealed pocket in my clothing, and Dan had a few dollars also. - -We were camped near the loading pen of a large cattle corral placed -beside a lonely railroad siding. We had no means of knowing where Adams -had gone; no way of pursuing him. We had no idea where to find the -sheriff of that county or other officer of the law. If we should succeed -in capturing the thieves, what sort of a case could we make against -them? We had no written agreement—not the scratch of a pen to show that -they owed us anything at all. And possession is nine points of the law. -Then, how could we live while waiting for results from the slow-moving -legal machinery? The case looked hopeless from every angle. - -I told Dan about Mrs. Adams’ conduct the day before and something of the -affair with the man. He read me quite a lecture and then advised me to -forget the whole episode as quickly as possible. We had but one object -in life—to reach California as soon as fate would let us. We must -dismiss the California outfit from our minds—not speak of it again. But -one road lay open to us. We must have recourse to a “side-door Pullman.” - -Bundles on backs, we struck out for a water tank, there to await the -coming of a freight. A long string of coal cars pulled in and stopped -for water. Dan’s request for a ride to Cheyenne was granted with the -proviso that we drop off before we reached the city. The brakeman spoke -to the engineer, who agreed to take advantage of a steep grade a few -miles east of town to slow down sufficiently for us to jump in safety, -adding that this would be our only chance, as trains always ran down the -further slope into the city at a high speed. We were forced to ride in a -gondola, which is a fairly warm place in a blazing sun. Mile after mile -we rode, and at last were warned of the approach to the hill. Crouching -at the end of the car, we waited for the speed to slacken. - -Suddenly I noticed that the speed was increasing instead of diminishing, -and a glance ahead showed the engineer waving his arms frantically. The -brakeman bounded into the car. - -“My God!” he yelled. “The super’s on behind and Buck daren’t slow down. -We’re over the hill. You’ll be pinched in Cheyenne, sure, and we’ll get -a sixty-day layoff, if we don’t all get the bounce.” - -“We must jump for it, Dan,” I said. “There is no other way. And we’ll -have to be quick about it, too.” - -Gathering my skirts in one hand, I clung to the side of the car with the -other and leaned far out and down. Dan begged me not to try it, but -followed my lead when he saw that I was determined to go. The earth -reeled by at a frightful speed, the wind lashed my face, the heavy -freight lurched from side to side with crash and roar, gathering -momentum with every turn of the wheels. - -For a moment my courage failed and I hung motionless. Then with a -violent outward thrust of hand and arm, I made a sidelong leap. My feet -struck the gravelled path at the side of the rails with a thud, and -catching my stride, I ran clear. Dan was not so fortunate, but rolled -headlong down the embankment, landing in a clump of brush. In an instant -I reached his side and found him unhurt, but pale as a ghost from the -strain. Together we darted into the tall bushes and sank down, just as -the caboose swept by, with a man, evidently the superintendent referred -to by the brakeman, standing on the rear platform beside the conductor. - -We were still a couple of miles from town, so, adjusting our packs, we -set off down the hot and dusty road. We had not walked far when a -teamster gave us a lift to our destination. - -The only possible camping place was beside a small stream in a group of -trees at the south side of the town. While I made camp Dan went into -Cheyenne. About dusk he returned, whistling cheerfully, with the welcome -news of a job in the morning. He had also made a trip to the reservation -and delivered the note sent by our wayside acquaintance to his friend. -This man sent us a little brown tent, made in two pieces with folding -supports for convenience in carrying. It is called a “dog tent” by the -soldiers and formed a valuable addition to our equipment. It shelters -two persons comfortably and is so light that I could carry half besides -my usual load without serious inconvenience. - -For a week now I have had leisure to wash and mend our clothes and -purchase a few necessities for the coming struggle with deserts and -mountains. Work is too scarce and wages too low to tempt us to remain -here in the hope of accumulating enough to take us home in proper -fashion. - - - - - FOURTEEN - - _July 24th_, - CHEYENNE, WYOMING. - - - - - FOURTEEN - - - _July 24th. Cheyenne, Wyoming._ - -Dan came in last evening quite disturbed over his failure to collect his -wages on the completion of the work. He worked very cheap for this -contractor, who seems to employ many floaters, and now he is refused the -little money that is due him. He went uptown this morning, and returned -about four o’clock enraged and disheartened. It seems that his employer -makes a business of hiring men who drift into town, at as low a wage as -possible; then beats them out of the money altogether, if he can. At -times some unfortunate, whose spirit is not yet broken, threatens -violence, in which case a trip to jail and a month on the chain-gang -curb, if not cure, his desire for justice. When Dan hinted at reprisals, -legal or otherwise, it was suggested that the Cheyenne climate was wont -to prove unhealthy for such as he, so it would be well for him to seek -new fields while the going was good. Inasmuch as we have no standing in -this community, besides possessing less than three dollars in cash, -which would not go far toward lawyer’s fees or bail money, it would seem -that this advice, bitter as it is, should be followed. - - - - - FIFTEEN - - _August 2nd_, - LARAMIE, WYOMING. - - - - - FIFTEEN - - - _August 2nd. Laramie, Wyoming._ - -A faint sunset glow illumined the dry, brown plain as we approached the -grade west of Cheyenne. A pungent odour rose from under foot as we -trailed through the low brush, and as we approached the track, the rails -set up a low humming that steadily increased in pitch and volume. A -glaring eye appeared in the distance. I had never attempted to board a -train in rapid motion and was more or less ignorant of ladders, hand -holds and other details of car construction, and the idea of leaping on -the roaring mass that came thundering through the semidarkness appalled -me. Nearer and nearer drew the engine. The fierce glow of the furnace, -as the fireman laboured to fill the insatiable maw, gleamed red upon the -gravelled track. Black smoke rolled from the stack and hung low in the -quiet air. With laboured pants, like an exhausted leviathan, the great -machine lurched past. - -Dan caught my hand and we ran beside the track. Car after car clanked -by. The hammering wheels seemed hungry for a victim. My eyes visioned -the ghastly death of an unknown man, whose life had been ground out but -a scant half hour before we had discovered the mangled remains. I saw -myself, hampered with clinging skirts and weighted with a heavy bundle, -clinging, slipping, falling between the ravening wheels, and a deadly -nausea seized me. With a half stifled cry I turned down the embankment. -Dan pulled and exhorted in vain. - -“It’s no use,” I said doggedly. “I just can’t do it.” - -The tail-lights of the caboose faded from view. - -“Well, I’ll be darned,” said Dan. “I never knew you were a coward.” - -“I don’t care if I am. It’s better than being chopped to pieces under -that train. I feel sure I should have gone under if I had made the -attempt.” - -“Nonsense,” he replied. “Now we’re in a nice fix. We can’t stay here. We -can’t walk across that wilderness. And we can’t catch a freight in the -railroad yard on account of Jeff Farr. First time I ever saw you show -the white feather.” - -“Just you wait till morning and we’ll see who’ll show the white feather. -I’m going to walk right into that yard, and Jeff Farr or no Jeff Farr, -I’ll board the first west-bound freight that pulls out.” - -Jeff Farr, as all the hoboes know, is an officer, especially dreaded -because of his drastic methods of handling vagrants, who makes his -headquarters at Cheyenne. We had heard of him repeatedly, for his fame -had spread even beyond Omaha, and his mere name was sufficient to strike -fear in the stoutest heart. - -In a disgruntled mood, we plunged into the bushes, and without -attempting to make camp, threw ourselves on the ground and slept. At -dawn we ate a cold lunch and turned back toward Cheyenne. - -At the west entrance of the railroad yard, a watchman stopped us. I -pleaded our cause to such good effect that he turned his back and gazed -into space as we scurried past. Two long strings of boxcars stood as -though ready for the road, and as we approached, a brakeman clambered -from the top of the nearest and spoke to me. He had noted the behaviour -of the detective, so as soon as I explained the situation he motioned to -the second string and told us that it was a west-bound train, already -searched and passed by the detectives, and now waiting, under the guard -of our friend the watchman, for engine and crew. - -Ducking across the tracks we examined the long line of cars, but each -was shut and sealed. In the middle of the train stood several gondolas, -and in lieu of nothing better, we boarded one. Crouching down, we waited -for the start with every nerve at high tension. A pair of hands grasped -the edge of the gondola. “Jeff Farr,” thought I with a shudder. A man’s -head appeared above the brim. With staring eyes, he glared at us for a -moment, then, with an inarticulate grunt, dropped to the ground. The -brakeman who had directed our movements engaged him in conversation. -Another pair of hands came over the other side of the car. Again a -vision of revolvers, handcuffs, courtroom and jail flashed through my -mind. Again a man’s head appeared. - -“Well, I’ll be blowed—a woman!” he gasped, and disappeared from view. - -Then a third man appeared. He evidently knew what to expect, for he -stared at us with a friendly grin. - -“The boys said they was a woman up here, but I thought they was kidding -me. Say, you folks got nerve—sticking your head into the lion’s mouth -like this. Ever hear of Jeff Farr?” - -“It’ll take something a whole lot worse than Jeff Farr to keep me in -this God-forsaken hole of a Cheyenne,” I replied. - -“They said you had grit. Hope you get through all right,” he answered, -as a jolt announced the arrival of the engine. - -“Off brakes,” whistled the engineer. With gasps of relief we saw the -buildings glide past, for we knew we were safe for the present. - -At the second station out an empty box car was picked up and the crew -transferred us into that. The strict laws against riding freights caused -us to keep every opening closed. There was no ventilation, and as the -sun climbed higher, we suffered severely from thirst, for in the -excitement of departure we had neglected to fill the canteen. Shortly -after noon the train stopped and we heard voices near at hand. The door -was shoved open and a man’s head appeared. - -“You can’t ride in there. Come out at once.” - -We leaped to the ground. - -“Clear out as fast as you know how. I don’t want to run you in, but if -anybody comes along, I’ll have to, and that may mean a month in jail.” - -After our Wood River experience, a word was sufficient to put us in -motion, and as we struck off across the tracks, I glanced back and saw -that we were in the town of Laramie. - -This little city stands in the midst of a barren plain, ringed about by -distant mountain ranges. Trees are scarce, and what few there are -evidently belong to doting owners, so that it is difficult for -travellers of our persuasion to find shelter from the broiling sun. On -the south side of town a narrow gauge railroad meanders off across the -flat, grey plain, and near it we found a few discouraged trees in an -abandoned rhubarb field. We made camp, set up the tent and cooked a much -appreciated meal. As night came on mosquitoes swarmed about and we had -recourse to a great smudge in front of the tent. About sundown I saw a -tall, gaunt man walking slowly toward an abandoned freight car that -stood on a rusty spur of the dinky railroad. As I watched his listless -movements my professional interest was aroused, for I took him to be -some unfortunate from the east in search of health. - -Next morning we went up town, Dan to hunt for work and I to buy some -much-needed provisions. Dan was lucky enough to secure immediate -employment on some construction work at the Wyoming State University, -located a short distance north of town. - -I learned from a neighbour that no use was now being made of the -pie-plant that grew on the railroad property, so I helped myself to a -fine cooking. Forced to abstain from fruit and vegetables so long, the -rhubarb made an especial appeal to our palates. I also discovered a -large patch of a wild plant, which, as a child, I had often gathered for -my mother. She called it “lamb’s quarter,” and held the young and tender -shoots in high esteem for greens. I now pulled a large panful and we -found them a pleasant addition to our menu. As I worked I again saw the -invalid, and that night the poor fellow was sitting on a pile of ties -with his head in his hands when Dan came home from work. He looked so -desperately lonely and miserable that I asked Dan to go over and talk to -him and see if there was anything we could do to help. In a few minutes -Dan came back. - -“The man is not sick. He’s hungry,” he said. - -“Hungry!” I cried. “If that is all that ails him, he must be starving to -look as he does. Go and invite him here for supper.” - -Dan returned with the ragged, pallid stranger, whose emaciated face was -almost covered by a heavy brown beard. He took a seat on an old stump -and ate what was offered him in silence. After the meal he filled the -water bucket, carried dried dung to replenish the smudge, then set off -toward the boxcar without a word. - -Next morning he sat on the ties as before. Again Dan called him over, -and again he ate in silence, but on leaving he doffed his scare-crow -hat. - -“Thank you very much,” he muttered. - -That evening he appeared without waiting to be summoned and as he drank -his cocoa, I saw Dan choking with suppressed emotion. No sooner had the -man gone, after attending to the chores as before, when Dan burst out. - -“Did you see what that chap did? He picked up the salt instead of the -sugar (we keep both in cocoa cans) and put a heaping spoonful in his -cocoa, and blessed if he didn’t drink the unspeakable mess without a -quiver.” - -Next day our peculiar visitor came in rather early and stood awkwardly -about, fumbling with his hat. Then with a shy, sidelong movement, he -laid a fifty cent piece on our pine box table, and bolted away like a -scared rabbit. A half hour later he came hesitatingly back, and prompted -by Dan’s questions, explained that he had spent most of the day chopping -wood, for which work he had received the fifty cents. - -We had dubbed him Larabo for want of a better name, as a convenient -abbreviation of Laramie Hobo, and that night he spent the evening beside -our fire. Emboldened by our acceptance of his pitiful offering and -encouraged by tactful questions, he told us his story. - -He was born in Angel’s Camp, California, some twenty-three years ago, -and was one of those unfortunate children whose father must remain -unknown and whose mother died at his birth, leaving him to the care of -her sisters in shame. The lad grew up untrained and uneducated, despised -by the children of decent parents; and as he developed into a rugged, -raw-boned youth, took up the work of a gold miner. He was not lacking in -ambition, and saved his money with some vague idea of escaping the sins -of his parents by migrating to parts unknown and establishing himself in -some business. - -At the age of twenty-one he had several hundred dollars in the savings -bank, and set out for the east to better his condition. Farm life -attracted him, so he hired out to a dairy-man. In course of a year he -became very expert and, having saved his wages carefully, in the fall of -1907 determined to start a dairy of his own. He rented a small farm, -laid in a good stock of hay and arranged to buy a herd of dairy cattle. -His idea was to make as large an initial payment as possible, giving his -note for the balance and depending on cream checks to pay off the -indebtedness. - -The farmer from whom he was purchasing the cows took him to a money -lender to arrange for the loan. When Larabo came to sign he discovered -that the note ran but six months, and since winter was coming on with -the inevitable drop in cream production he doubted his ability to meet -the note when due. The banker assured him that the note could be renewed -without trouble, if necessary, and advised him that this short term note -was in his favour, since it would enable him to pay off some of the debt -in the spring and secure the remainder with a new note if desired, thus -effecting a saving in interest. Thus persuaded, Larabo signed. - -All winter long he fed and tended the cattle most faithfully and they -did well, but as he had anticipated, the receipts from the creamery were -insufficient to meet the note. When he asked for the promised renewal, -the banker declared he could not do it, the times were too hard, money -was scarce, some banks had issued script. If he failed to pay the debt, -he would be sold out. The green, ignorant boy did his utmost to raise -the necessary cash, but money was tight, as the banker had said, and a -month later hay, equipment, cattle and savings were swept away. - -Penniless and discouraged, he started to beat his way to the gold mines -of the west. He was brutally slugged at Cheyenne, and at Laramie was -arrested and given thirty days in jail. On his release he obtained work -as a dishwasher in a restaurant and there remained until he had saved -twenty dollars. On his way to the station to take a train for the west -he met an officer, who took his money and ran him in. The judge -remembered his face and gave him a sixty-day sentence. - -During this period he brooded over his experiences and on his release -sought out the man who had arrested and robbed him and administered a -beating. He was once more arrested and clubbed and sentenced as a -habitual offender. When his term expired, the chief of police ordered -him to stay away from the business section of town under penalty of -immediate arrest, and all officers, train crews and detectives were -warned against him. Twice he walked miles along the western track and -caught a freight, only to be beaten and thrown off. He was too feeble -from abuse and confinement to cross the mountain wastes on foot, and at -last resigned himself to slow starvation in the rotting freight car. For -five weeks he had averaged but one meal a day, earned by doing odd jobs -around the outskirts of town, and his wonderful endurance had almost -reached its limit when we took him in. - -Daily he has come to the camp for breakfast and supper, and has revealed -his gratitude for our attentions by many little helpful acts and a dumb -show of affection like a faithful dog. - -Yesterday afternoon dense black clouds blew up while I was doing some -marketing, and before I could reach camp the most severe hailstorm of my -experience struck the town. I took shelter in the doorway of a cottage -to escape the fearful pelting, but a woman appeared and sharply bade me -be gone. I then stopped under a cow shed, but a man came from a near-by -house and threatened me with arrest. Buffeted by the slashing -hailstones, I struggled on to camp, only to find our little tent blown -flat and covered with limbs torn from the trees by the storm. - -The clouds passed as quickly as they had come. The sun shone with -dazzling brilliance but little warmth; the sky resumed its wonderful -transparent blue; and in the rarefied atmosphere the distant mountain -peaks loomed clear and sharp with a deceptive aspect of proximity. - -Despite the flood of golden sunshine the ground was still concealed by a -liberal coating of hailstones as night fell. - -I had done all I could to make things endurable when Dan came in from -work, but he thought it best to sleep in some barn on account of the -intense cold. After seeking permission at four or five houses and -meeting with curt refusals and even threats, we returned to camp and -found Larabo feeding a rousing fire and busily scraping a spot clear of -ice. Here we set up the tent and spread our thin blankets on the ground, -while a cutting wind swept across the valley and threatened to tear our -shelter from its fastenings. - -Dan’s work was finished, so as soon as we had thawed out and eaten -breakfast this morning he went to town to get a time table and see if -something could be done for poor Larabo. We have decided to take a -passenger train to the first small station west of here, so I packed our -baggage for the journey while Larabo looked on disconsolately. - -Suddenly he whirled about and took to his heels and, glancing around, I -saw a well-dressed man approaching through the rhubarb field. He came -directly to me and began to talk about the recent storm. This led to -some conversation concerning the University and I told him that Dan had -been working there. His eyes fell on Larabo, who was moving restlessly -about some hundred yards away. - -“You should not allow that disreputable tramp to hang around your camp,” -the stranger said. “People complain that you are harbouring hoboes and -criminals, and it is giving you a bad reputation.” - -His words loosed the flood of seething indignation that had been -gathering strength with each succeeding day. I described the heartless -treatment accorded us by the townspeople; I told the story of Larabo, -and concluded with a scathing arraignment and denunciation of the Chief -of Police who permitted such outrages. As I paused for breath the -stranger broke in. - -“I feel sure that the things of which you complain are mostly due to -lack of understanding,” said he. “Take this Chief of Police now. He is -really not such a bad fellow. His intentions are good. Fact is, I’m the -Chief. Some of our good people have been complaining and calling this a -tramp roost, and have asked me to have you arrested or run out of town.” - -“You don’t look like the heartless brute that I had pictured, and I am -glad indeed to meet you,” I responded, “for now I feel sure that you -will take poor Larabo up town and protect him while he is earning enough -money to get away.” - -With that I invited the Chief to have a seat on a stump and we talked -with mutual benefit and pleasure until Dan returned. The men were -introduced and Dan explained that he had secured work with room and -board for Larabo with a Socialist family, who would treat him kindly and -vouch for his good behaviour. All that was necessary was for the Chief -to grant permission for him to remain in town and furnish protection -from official thugs. - -Larabo was summoned and came reluctantly. I bade him and the Chief -good-bye as Dan went with them to see our protégé settled in his new -quarters. When Dan gets back we, too, will bid adieu to the rhubarb -field and go our way with a satisfied feeling of work well done. - - - - - SIXTEEN - - _August 9th_, - OGDEN, UTAH. - - - - - SIXTEEN - - - _August 9th. Ogden, Utah._ - -One more step taken, and a nice long one, too. We left the passenger -train that took us out of Laramie at the inevitable water tank. The -first freight that passed we made no attempt to board, for excellent -reasons. A number of hoboes were lounging about, and when this freight -pulled in the crowd separated, some running one way and some another. - -As we walked down the siding loud sounds of altercation arose and a hobo -came tearing up the path with a brakeman swinging a pick handle one -short jump behind. The tramp dodged under the train and disappeared. A -few yards further on another trainman with a heavy chain in his hands -was making vicious cuts at a slender boy, who dodged nimbly around and -over the cars, now here, now there. It seemed an inauspicious moment to -make the acquaintance of the train crew, so we returned to the welcome -shade of the water tank. - -Evening came. We cooked our simple meal and prepared for the journey. It -was perhaps nine o’clock when the heavy vibration of the roadbed -announced the coming of another freight. We crouched in the bushes at -the side of the track. The train jarred to a halt and in the light from -the fire box we could see the hose being let down to the engine tank. - -Silently we drew near and made a hurried inspection of the rolling -stock. Only one car was open. This was a gondola loaded with some -massive, black machinery. We swung our bundles over the edge and -scrambled in ourselves. Pieces of machinery were heaped in a confused -mass, but in one end two broad, curving bars of metal like huge springs -fitted together in such a way as to form an elliptical enclosure. -Hastily we opened a bundle and extracted an oilcloth covered blanket. -Bundles, hats and canteen were stowed beneath a projection. Then we -wedged ourselves into the oblong space that scarcely afforded room for -our bodies and tucked the black covering neatly over us. Hardly were we -down when a “shack,” as the hoboes call the trainmen, approached over -the top of the train and with lantern in hand leaped from one piece of -machinery to another, narrowly missing our bodies as he passed. - -Dan fell asleep almost immediately, but I was not so fortunate. My head -and shoulders rested on a heavy piece of metal which vibrated and -bounded up and down with the violent jarring of the train. Crowded as we -were in the constricted space, I had no opportunity to change my -position, so could only submit to the constant pounding with fortitude. -At times it seemed that I could no longer endure the concussion at the -base of the skull, which set up a violent headache, and also I was in -fear that a shift of the great mass of metal might pin us down and -perhaps crush us. But moving was out of the question, for the trainmen -were constantly passing with lanterns and pick handles, and woe to the -unlucky hobo who crossed their path. - -The night wore away, and as the first grey streaks of dawn showed in the -sky the train entered a division point. Several men engaged in -conversation at the side of the car in which we lay concealed. - -“Got any ’boes aboard this trip, Bill?” inquired a heavy voice. - -“Well, I’ve got a suspicion that we may have. When we stopped for water -just this side of Laramie I thought I saw a couple scooting along the -side. But we haven’t been able to locate anybody. Better see what you -can raise.” - -The next instant a man vaulted onto the end of the car and sat on the -edge, with feet dangling a scant twelve inches above my head. Dan was -sound asleep, and I was in deadly fear lest he waken suddenly and make -some move or sound. The intruder carried a lantern, which shone palely -in the growing light. - -“Here, Joe, gimme that lantern a second. I want to take a look in that -refrigerator car.” - -The seated detective passed the light to his mate, then leisurely placed -his foot within an inch of my right ear, and stepping over our heads, -made his way across the car. His pal peered into the open ventilator in -the ice chest of the car ahead, and a moment later both men jumped to -the ground to greet the new crew. - -“All right, boys. No ’boes this morning. She’s all ready to take out.” - -The engineer sounded the welcome signal and we entered a new division. -It was broad daylight before I saw a trainman, and then a brakie -appeared, coming over the tops from the rear. With a cautious motion I -pulled the blanket over Dan, who still slept, and drew a fold across my -own face. - -The brakeman advanced with a cheerful whistle, and his heel rang sharply -on the iron projection at Dan’s shoulder, who threw out both arms and -raised up with a cry. As Dan sat up, the brakie sat down with exceeding -swiftness. The two men glared at one another and it would be difficult -to say which had the blanker expression—Dan, who had been so rudely -startled out of his sound sleep, or the brakeman, who had witnessed the -apparition of a man rising out of apparently solid metal. The sight of -their gaping mouths and bulging eyes proved too much for my risibles and -stretching out my cramped arms, I burst into peals of laughter. My -unexpected appearance seemed the one thing needed to complete the utter -mental disorganisation of the unfortunate trainman. He was too far gone -to speak, but gulped and gasped like a dying fish. Dan and I gradually -eased our stiffened bodies out of our iron cradle, and by degrees the -brakeman’s wits returned. I at once got to work and soon had his promise -to leave us unmolested. - -But we were not to remain so for long. The conductor himself came over -the top—a new thing in our experience—and kindly, but firmly, told us to -get off at the next stop. - -Thus we found ourselves in the edge of a fair-sized railroad yard, the -name of which we made no attempt to learn, but contented ourselves with -seeking a quiet spot where we could cook a meal and rest. The back of my -head, neck and shoulders was bruised black from the hours of pommelling, -and I was glad to snatch a few hours of restless sleep. Dan prepared and -packed a box of food, filled the canteen and made ready for the night’s -adventures. - -Just at dark we entered the railroad yard as a freight rolled in from -the east. Dan told me to wait while he reconnoitred. Hardly had he gone -when a man appeared at my side as though he had risen out of the ground. -He held a pocket flash in one hand and a club in the other. - -“What are you doing here?” he demanded sternly. - -“Waiting for my husband,” I said. - -Lifting the flash, he examined me from head to foot. Reaching forward, -he tapped the box of lunch under my arm with his billy. - -“What have you got in that box?” he inquired. - -“Grub,” I replied. - -“So ho! A box of grub and a roll of blankets. You look like a woman -hobo.” - -I admitted the charge and declared my intention of taking the west-bound -freight. “And I suppose you are a detective hired to prevent that very -thing,” I concluded. - -“You’ve struck it,” he answered. “That’s....” - -He leaned forward and stiffened like a pointer dog in the presence of a -flock of quail. With wonderful dexterity he slipped the flash in his -pocket and drew a revolver, then moved forward with the sinuous grace of -a panther and as silently as a shadow. I heard the footsteps of several -men approaching across the yard. - -“Halt!” barked the detective. “Throw up your hands. Keep ’em high now, -and face the east. Now, beat it.” - -I heard the sound of running feet, punctuated by dull thuds as the -detective belaboured the heads and shoulders of the fleeing men with his -billy. - -“Fo Gawd’s sake, don’t, Boss. Oh, Gawd. You’re killin’ me.” It was the -pleading voice of a negro, who seemed to be bearing the brunt of the -clubbing. - -In a few minutes the detective came back, panting. My blood was boiling. - -“You great big brute, you,” I began. “Why don’t you jump somebody who -has a decent chance, if you must act like a devil?” - -“You’ve got your nerve, young lady, talking to me like that. Don’t you -know I can run you and your old man in if I want to?” - -“Oh, I suppose you could. But what makes you want to be so cruel? You -don’t look like a brute.” - -“Well, maybe I am too rough, though that is what I’m hired to be. -Besides, some yeggs broke into a building in a little town up the line -about a year ago, and when me and my mate tried to run them in, they -shot my pal dead and winged me in the shoulder. Since then I club all -hoboes on general principles.” - -Just then I recognised Dan’s step as he came up the yard. The detective -made a forward movement, but I seized him by the arm. - -“That’s my husband coming, and you better let him alone. If you start -clubbing him, I’ll fix you, pistol or no pistol.” - -“Let go. I’ll not hurt him.” - -He bounded forward, and intercepting Dan, questioned him closely. Then -ordering him to remain where he was, he returned and questioned me. Then -he summoned Dan. - -“Well, people,” he said, as Dan came up. “I guess I’ll take a chance on -you. If the conductor don’t get wise and make a kick, I’ll not see you -when you get aboard that cattle car yonder. So long.” - -Hurrying over, we climbed in just as the train pulled out. As I peered -through the slats in the front of the car, I saw a hobo make a running -leap into the gondola immediately in front of us. A soft footfall -sounded on the roof of our car and the detective leaped down beside the -hobo, who scrambled madly up the end of the boxcar ahead. The men -reached the roof almost together and for a moment seemed etched against -the sky. The officer made a mighty swing with his billy at the tramp’s -head. There was a crack like a revolver shot, and the hobo pitched from -the top of the rapidly moving car and rolled head over heels down the -twenty foot embankment. Sickened, I clung to the bars while the train -rushed on. - -The floor of the car was covered with filth, so that sitting or -reclining was out of the question. To add to our discomfort a storm blew -up and the cold wind and rain beat between the slats and chilled us to -the bone. As we slowed at a siding a low, mournful sound came to our -ears, and we found ourselves beside a great cattle train. The poor -animals moaned and bellowed in the sleety blast. Some were down, and I -could easily picture their experiences of long hours without food and -water, exposure to the broiling heat of the noonday sun in the crowded -cars, followed by the night’s cold wind and rain. - -We were completely exhausted when morning came, and crawled weakly out -when a brakeman ordered us off the train. Throwing ourselves in the -shade of boxcars that stood on a lonely siding, we were instantly -asleep. The sound of voices wakened me and, sitting up, I saw a dozen -hoboes scattered about. Some were east and some west-bound, but all -agreed that this particular division was the deuce to cross. - -A freight rolled in and some boarded her, but did not linger long. With -shouts and curses, the train crew plied pick handles and chains, and -every man was beaten off. - -Some two hours later another freight hove in sight and we concealed -ourselves in the high brush beside the track. The crew united to drive -the crowd of hoboes down the line, and as the chase swept past, we -hastened to examine the unguarded cars. In the middle of the train stood -three cattle cars loaded with ninety-pound steel rails. These were piled -in sloping tiers on each side, leaving a runway down the centre of the -car. - -“Here’s a good place, Dan. We’ll lie down in there.” - -“Good heavens, girl,” he cried aghast. “If those heavy rails should -shift in swinging around these mountain curves, there wouldn’t be enough -of us left to hold a funeral over.” - -“I’m not particular about my funeral, if it should come to that. I’d -rather trust the rails than the detectives. Come on, I’m going in.” - -Opening the end door, I piled in and lay down in the little runway. On -either side the sloping heaps of rails rose high above my head. Dan -closed the door and lay down also. - -The trainmen were too busy with the hoboes to disturb us, or they -considered the rail cars too dangerous for the most daring adventurer, -for we were left in peace. - -The rails grated and chafed as we rocked along. I took a look at Dan, -who grew a trifle white about the lips when the rails shifted a little. -I was full of content as I realised that we were making good progress, -and laid my head on the bundle and slept. - -It was night and Dan was shaking me and whispering in my ear when I -wakened. Staggering up, I gazed about, bewildered. Taking my hand, Dan -led me out of the car, which stood on a siding, and across the tracks -away from the lighted street of a town. - -“This is an awfully tough town,” he said softly. “The rail cars were cut -out here, and I went for fresh water. I never saw so much drunkenness or -so many toughs in my life. We must get away before morning if we -possibly can.” - -A distant whistle announced the approach of an engine. A long train of -tank cars clanked to a standstill. We advanced hopefully, but not a car -was open. The yard was dark and we chose a tank car close behind the -engine. A narrow ledge projected in front, and on this we perched—feet -dangling and backs close pressed against the end of the great cylinder. -The engineer and brakeman sauntered up and paused close by. The brakie -carried a lantern in one hand and rested the other not two feet from my -side. There they stood and talked while we almost ceased breathing. But -the deep shadow of the tank concealed us, and they separated, leaving us -undiscovered. - -Then began the wildest ride of my career. That engineer seemed speeding -to the bedside of a dying friend, or perchance, to some sweetheart who -awaited his coming. The crest of the mountain range was past and the -train shot like a meteor round shouldering hills and through the steep -ravines. The tank car leaped and plunged like a thing of life, -threatening to leave the rails at each sharp turn of the road. Balancing -perilously, we clung like limpets to the narrow shelf, while a wild -thrill, born of the rapid motion through the mountain fastnesses with -the night wind fanning my face, drove all fear from my mind. I could -have shouted with pure delight and felt that I need only will it and my -soul would part company with all material things to soar to meet the -stars that blazed overhead. - -The first flush of dawn brightened the sky as the lights of a good sized -town appeared ahead. We gathered ourselves up for the leap. The train -slowed and entered a long railroad yard. A group of men, lanterns in -hand, stood at one side of the track, and as they caught sight of us, -they set up a shout and raced for the train. A dozen cars swept past -before they were able to board it, and we saw them moving forward around -the awkward tank cars. A single glance identified them. - -“We’ll have to jump quick before the brutes get any nearer,” I cried. - -The train was still moving at a lively clip as we leaped off. Catching -our stride, we raced for the sagebrush on the right. The officers set up -another racket, but apparently considered a chase hopeless. - -Circling widely, we came to a squat building on the outskirts of town. -From within rose a hum of machinery and in the doorway stood the -stalwart figure of a young man. He hailed us merrily. - -“Hello, there! Where are you going in such a hurry?” - -We explained our plight, and he was good enough to come to our aid. - -We entered the power plant and watched the youth fetch out water, soap -and towels for our convenience. Catching sight of myself in a mirror, I -uttered a cry of surprise. Coated with dust as I was from the long ride -so close to the engine, I more nearly resembled a negress than a white -woman. While we removed the stains of travel, the boy placed coffee pot -and frying pan on a small stove in a corner and soon spread a savoury -meal on the pine table. While we ate, he explained that he had the night -shift at the plant and slept in the building during the day. He had a -reputation for feeding every hobo who came along. Consequently, the -officers might come there to look for us. Besides, the day man was not -so charitable, so it would be well for us to be out of sight before he -arrived. - -Leading the way to his little cubby hole of a room, he pulled the bed -out from the wall so that it stood almost across the doorway, and spread -some quilts on the floor behind it. Tossing our bundles out of sight, he -suggested that we lie down and remain as quiet as possible. - -We were scarcely hidden when the day man arrived. Our friend complained -of a sick headache and said he had moved his bed to get more fresh air. -He had darkened the room as much as possible and now threw himself down -and feigned sleep. Three men approached the door. - -“Say, Frank,” one began, “a couple of hoboes came up this way and we -want ’em. You better come across now and tell us where they went. We’re -getting tired of the way you run a tramp roost up here.” - -“Well, you’ve got your nerve, I must say. Can’t a fellow get any rest -from you fee-chasing scavengers? Here I go to bed with a sick headache, -and no sooner do I fall asleep than you come chasing hoboes and wake me -up again. If you want any information, why in hell don’t you talk to -Harry? Ask him if he’s seen any tramps.” - -“Sorry if you’re sick, old man,” answered one of the officers -soothingly. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.” - -“Cut the bunk,” growled another. “I want to know if you saw these bums?” - -“No, I haven’t seen any bums,” shouted Frank savagely. “Furthermore, I -want you pussy-footed bulls to clear out of here. I’m sick, and I want -to sleep.” - -He whirled over with his back to the door. The officers stood about -uncertainly for a few minutes and then we heard them tramping about the -building. When all was quiet, Frank thrust his head over the edge of the -bed. - -“How was that for a stiff bluff?” he chuckled. “Your uncle Ezra is right -there with the goods, ain’t he, what? See any bums? No, of course not. -The only bums I ever see are those bulls that hang around the station. -And now that the fly cops have flitted, tell us the sad story of your -young lives.” - -So I took up the familiar tale and the lad listened with bated breath -and sparkling eyes while I led him step by step across the country. On -conclusion he told me of himself. He was a student in a technical -school, utilising his vacation to gain practical experience in his -specialty of electricity and earn money for the coming term. - -As I lay prone on the floor, the intense pain of my bruised spine eased -a trifle, and lulled by the hum of the generators, I fell asleep. Night -had fallen when I awoke and both men were gone. I found them chatting -busily, while Dan repacked our bundles for the journey and Frank broiled -a large steak over the coals. - -“Fill up, sweet friends, fill up,” quoth he, carving a huge slab of -meat. “Ways are long, the steak is fleeting, and the jail is not your -goal. At least, we hope that it doesn’t prove to be. So eat and be -merry, for to-morrow you may be in Granger.” - -Nothing loath, we fell to with great gusto, and while we ate, discussed -the best method of getting out of town. We decided to take a passenger -to the first stop, as at Laramie. - -As we started to the train, our host seized his hat and made ready to -accompany us. - -“I’ll just let the buzzers look after themselves while I give you the -benefit of my powerful protection up town. Those bulls won’t be so -liable to run you in because you’re walking the streets without a -thousand dollars in your pockets if I am by to testify to your noble -characters. Then I know most of the boys who run out of here and I may -be able to fix it so the freight crew will pick you up without any -trouble.” - -Thus we bought our tickets and said good-bye to our young friend while -the officers glowered from a distance. - -Once more we got out at a barren flag station, but we hadn’t long to -wait. As the freight stopped, a brakeman leaped down and came directly -to us. - -“All right, folks, we’ll give you a lift and pass you over the next -division if we can. Get in that boxcar over there.” - -In we crawled and rode in comfort the night through. Early next morning, -as the train sped through a desolate wilderness, another brakeman -climbed into the car. - -“How do you do?” he began. “We heard about you from the boys back there, -and we’ll see you as close to Ogden as we can. But you’ll have to leave -this car, as it’ll be dropped next stop, and the only place for you is -in an empty fruit car way up near the head of the train. You’ll have to -go over the top while she’s spinning. Do you think you can make it?” -looking at me anxiously. - -“Sure,” I answered boldly, my tone implying that I had walked the tops -of moving freights since the age of three. - -Strapping our bundles to our backs, we started. I confess to a peculiar -sensation in the pit of my stomach as I trod the narrow plank nailed -along the apex of the roofs, and jumped from car to car, while the train -rocked heavily along, lurching around the curves, and the wild landscape -rotated past on either side. But after the first few minutes the feeling -passed and I was able to conclude the journey with all the sang-froid of -an old hand. - -“After to-day, I’ll be expecting to meet women brakies most any time. -You’d make a swell member of the Union,” volunteered our guide, as we -settled ourselves in the fruit car. - -The day passed and the night. About four in the morning another brakeman -appeared and roused us. - -“We will stop at Uintah about sunrise,” he said. “You will have to go -back to the rear of the train, and be ready to drop off as the train -slows down for the station. Get away as quickly as you can, for if you -are discovered riding on this train, the whole bunch of us may spend a -month in jail.” - -So I took another stroll along the swaying roofs and climbed onto the -rear platform of the caboose. As the train began slowing for Uintah, we -flipped off and bolted away from the track. - -After many miles of wilderness the fertile valley looked very beautiful -to our tired eyes. Accustomed from childhood to an abundance of fresh -fruit the year round, the restricted diet of recent months has told on -me. Now berry vines, fruit orchards and vineyards reminded me of home, -and we determined to buy a little fruit, fresh from the garden. - -Passing up a tree-bordered roadway, we came upon a long, low farmhouse, -squatted at ease upon a terraced hillside, the brown of its unpainted -wooden frame blending with the russet hues of tree trunks and knotted -loops of trailing grape vines. A fluffy maltese kitten with arching back -scampered with sidelong leaps to meet us, then frolicked up a tree. Two -dogs set up a racket and a winsome, dark-eyed girl came to the door. I -asked for ten cents worth of raspberries. With a charming smile she led -the way to the roomy kitchen, and taking down a bright tin pail, placed -it in my hands with instructions to go right into the patch and help -ourselves to what we wanted. We busied ourselves among the tall, green -canes, and as the scent of flowers and fruit came to my nostrils, it -seemed that I had been transported to the beautiful spot where I was -born. - -“At last I can realise that I am nearing home,” said I, turning to Dan. - -On our return to the kitchen with the luscious red berries, the laughing -maid met us, and set out dishes, spoons, sugar and a great pitcher of -yellow cream. And what a feast we had! Our hostess informed us that the -first passenger train that stopped at their little station did not come -through till nearly one o’clock, so while Dan roamed about the ranch, -the little woman and I sat on the long veranda and got acquainted. - -With shy head hanging and many a blush, she said she had been married -but four months. Her husband, who was a Mormon, was then at one of his -other ranches, where he stopped for weeks at a time. I surmised that she -was not his first wife, but warned by her attitude, forbore to question. -She told me of her limited opportunities and narrow horizon. With -wistful eyes she listened to my descriptions of large cities. She -herself had never been further than Ogden, and only twice to that -metropolis. The furnishings of the house were crude in the extreme, and -she confided to me her longing for curtains such as she had once seen in -Ogden, and hoped to have a strip of carpet for the parlour floor some -time. - -Suddenly she flung herself on her knees at my side and buried her face -in my lap, while great sobs shook the slender body. She was all alone -she said, all, all alone, and she was afraid. Her mother had eleven -children and was always too overworked to listen to her daughter’s -nonsense, as she called it. I gently raised the child—she was but -sixteen years of age—to my lap, and with tender words and petting calmed -the storm of sobs. When she could listen I advised her as best I could, -and wrote a set of instructions to guide her in the coming hours of -need. Poor little wild rose. I dread to think of what the future holds -for her, so sensitive, so frail. - -Once more we took a train and soon landed in Ogden. Turning to the left, -we crossed the river and came to a large cottonwood grove. Here we -pitched camp and Dan took up the never-ending search for work. Last -night he came home with a big watermelon and the welcome news that he -was to start work on Monday morning. So for a few days at least I am -free to rest and sew. - - - - - SEVENTEEN - - _August 22nd_, - ON THE SACRAMENTO RIVER. - - - - - SEVENTEEN - - - _August 22nd. On the Sacramento River._ - -Well, little book, my entries are almost finished, for the business of -building a new niche in the world with nothing but our bare hands will -leave scant time for keeping a diary. - -Dan had several days’ work in Ogden. Then we took a passenger to the -first stop west as usual and there boarded a freight. We had not gone -far when a trainman thrust his head into the car in which we were -riding, and failing to see me huddled in a corner, accosted Dan. - -“Hello, Jack. What are you riding on?” - -“A union card,” replied Dan, following the accepted formula, and pulling -the card from his pocket for inspection. - -“And what else?” queried the brakeman. - -“A dollar,” said Dan. - -“Not enough, Jacko. It’s two dollars or nothing on this division. Cough -up.” - -So Dan gave him the two dollars and the train moved out. - -On the edge of the Great Salt Lake the freight stopped again and another -brakeman leaped into the car. He gaped in amazement at sight of me, then -turned to Dan, “You’ll have to come through, old sport. This kind of -baggage is worth a five spot. Come across now, or you’ll have to swim -the lake.” - -“Here, Dan,” I broke in sharply, as he hesitated. “Don’t you give those -petty grafters another penny. Let’s get out.” - -The trainman turned on us threateningly, but one good look sufficed, so -we were left undisturbed beside the track. We had heard more than once -of trainmen who not only took money from hoboes, but also relieved them -of Ingersoll, knife, or any little trinket they happened to have about -them, but this was our first experience with the breed. - -With our bundles for pillows we slept through the night, and awakened at -dawn when another freight stopped for a last drink before crossing the -lake. We piled into a gondola just as the train gathered speed and felt -that we would at least cross the lake in safety. We had not gone a mile -when a trainman leaped in beside us. - -“What are you riding on, friends?” he inquired. - -“A union card,” said Dan. - -“And what else?” - -“Not another blamed thing,” Dan answered determinedly. - -“Well, that don’t listen very good to me,” the fellow growled. “Where -did you come from and where are you going?” - -While we gave him a sketch of our experiences and reasons for riding -freights, he drew a stub of a pencil from his pocket and began scrawling -on the back of a time table. - -“Loan me your knife a minute, old man,” he said to Dan. - -Dan passed over the knife, a very fine one that I had given him the -first Christmas after our marriage, and the brakeman sharpened his -pencil. - -“Well, so long,” said he, turning on his heel, and starting to slip -Dan’s knife into his pocket. - -I seized his arm like a flash and wrested the knife from his hand before -he could recover from the unexpected assault. - -“No, you don’t. Oh, no you don’t,” I hissed furiously. “That’s my knife -and I propose to keep it.” - -“Why, you little hell-cat, you.” He burst into a laugh. “I didn’t mean -to steal your knife. Gee, she’s some scrapper,” turning to Dan. -“Wouldn’t mind having a pal like that myself.” - -With another laugh he made his way to the rear of the train. - -A half hour had passed when we were amazed to see him coming over the -top with a coffee pot in one hand and a pan in the other. - -“Thought maybe you might be hungry,” he said with an embarrassed laugh, -as he set the pan of boiled meat and doughnuts on the bottom of the car. -As he bolted toward the head of the train, we attacked the food with -ravenous appetites. - -We were so engaged when a man leaped from the boxcar behind, landing in -the gondola with a clatter. I looked up into the amazed face of the -conductor. - -“Good Lord!” he ejaculated. “Well, good Lord, so this is what old -Tight-wad was up to. What have you done to him anyhow? Hypnotised him?” - -“What are you talking about?” asked Dan. - -“Why, that front brakeman of mine. He’s the meanest cuss on this -division, bar none. He’ll hold up a ’bo and pry the gold out of his -teeth. I noticed him skirmishing around in the caboose a while back, and -he acted so blamed mysterious that I had to come up front and see what -in blazes he was up to. Well, I’ll be jim swiggled if ever I expected to -see old Tight-wad pulling any charitable stunts.” - -The conductor proceeded to ply us with the usual questions, which we -answered to his entire satisfaction. - -“There’s an empty refrigerator car up ahead,” he declared, “that is -billed straight through to Sacto. She’s locked all right, but the -ventilator in one of the ice chests is sealed open, and you can slide in -there and lie snug till you land in Sacramento.” - -Swallowing the last drops of coffee, we followed him over the tops to -the fruit car. Sure enough, the little door that covered the hatch at -the end of the car stood open, the support bound with the lead seal, -which must never be broken except by the proper officials. - -Gathering my skirts closely about my ankles, I slid into the opening -feet first, and catching the edges with my hands, swung inside the ice -chest and let go. Dan followed, and we found ourselves in peculiar -surroundings. The floor of the cubby-hole was formed of scantlings laid -on their edges, with wide interstices for drainage. There was scarcely -room to move and the only light entered the little opening high above -our heads. As I gazed upward, I felt caught in a trap. We curled down on -the grating and resigned ourselves to fate. - -As the sun climbed the sky the heat increased, and it was then that we -noticed that our canteen was empty. Nobody came near. We dared not show -ourselves. So the day passed in great discomfort. Night fell and we -slept fitfully. Morning came and again the sun blazed down on the desert -wastes and the tortures of thirst became intense. - -We had been twenty-four hours without food or water when Dan decided to -risk a reconnoitre. Taking the canteen, he swung himself up to the hatch -and thrust out his head and shoulders. A brakeman came on the run. After -considerable parley he took the canteen and promised to fetch us water -at the first stop. But the afternoon wore away and he failed to appear. -We were almost insane from thirst and heat when at last he lowered the -dripping canteen into our prison. - -In Winnemucca the car was shunted back and forth for an hour, but at -nightfall we were off on the long climb to the summit. I climbed hand -over hand to the hatchway, and after a cautious survey of the -surroundings, drew myself out and perched on the roof of the car. The -Overland Limited shot past, the roof covered with the crouching forms of -hoboes, thick as barnacles on an old pier. The desolate expanse of -desert seemed full of mystery, as the long train, dotted here and there -with lanterns, crawled like a gigantic snake up the steep grade. Far -ahead two engines coughed and laboured, the black smoke rolling in great -billows from their stacks. As I realised that we were nearing the -boundary of California a great contentment filled my soul. Thus I -revelled in thoughts of home, while the cool night wind fanned my face -and the Big Dipper swung across the northern sky and the speeding wheels -clanked a cheerful refrain. - -Early next morning the brakeman made us a visit and said we would be in -Sparks before noon, where we must make another change. - -Just outside the city limits we dropped off, and as guests of the -trainmen were soon eating our first restaurant meal for months. About -two o’clock we wandered to the outskirts of town, for it was useless to -attempt to catch a freight in daylight. We came to an irrigating ditch -lined with a tall growth of weeds, and slipping off our footgear, were -soon paddling about like a couple of kids in the swift running water. -Late in the day we cooked and ate a meal, took a farewell wash in the -stream and returned to the railroad yard. Word had gone forth not to -molest us, so we boarded the night freight without difficulty. The only -available place was a cattle car loaded high with lumber. The end door -was unlocked and there was quite a space between the piles of boards and -the roof of the car. I settled myself in a corner with back against the -siding, and Dan lay at my feet. - -It was pitch dark when the train clanked through the streets of Reno. As -we drew slowly out of town, dim forms appeared, and hoboes began piling -into the car through both doors. In the darkness I could sense the -presence of a large number of men. Two lads curled down at my right, -their voices proclaiming their youthfulness. On the left two hoboes lay -so close that I could have touched them. They had come from a long ride -on a limited passenger and were completely exhausted. A group of men in -the far end of the car began smoking, and as each match flared, some -face would stand out in bold relief. They talked with perfect -comradeship, and though they were totally unaware of the presence of a -woman, there was little to complain of in their conversation. In fact, I -can truthfully say that I heard more profane language in one year’s -attendance at Medical College than on this entire trip. - -At the first stop out of Reno still more men came aboard. A trainman -came to the far door with a lantern, but one look sufficed and he -returned no more. At Truckee the car was switched to a siding. - -“Beat it, boys, here come the bulls!” shouted a hobo. - -Like dry peas out of a pod, the hoboes scattered out of that car and -fled in all directions as officers flung open the door at our side and -emptied their revolvers into the interior. We remained motionless as the -bullets thudded into the wood, and in a few minutes looked out to see -the detectives chasing the fleeing hoboes across the yards. - -“Now is our chance,” whispered Dan. “Make for the round-house yonder.” - -We dived within the yawning portal and crouched within the engine pit. -The place seemed empty and we sat in silence for a time. What to do we -did not know. It was impossible to remain where we were for long; -discovery meant a trip to jail and a month on the chain-gang for Dan. -The town lies in a mountain fastness with snowsheds protecting the -tracks, so that foot travel was out of the question, and our money was -almost gone. While we studied the problem, a long freight came through -without stopping. We ran out to the main track and the first thing that -caught my eye was the familiar old refrigerator car with the open hatch -in which we had already ridden so many miles. - -“Quick, quick!” I cried. “We must catch that train.” - -The engine had cleared the yard and was gathering headway with each turn -of the wheels. Racing madly beside the track, I made a desperate lunge -and caught a hand rod. My arms seemed torn from their sockets as my body -was snapped into a horizontal position by the speeding train. A moment I -clung, unable to move, then with a fierce scramble, I found my footing -and clambered to the top of the car. Dan had landed on the car behind -and together we started for the head of the train. - -A brakeman appeared on the top of a boxcar. At sight of a woman coolly -parading the roof of the freight, his jaw dropped and he started so -violently as to make me fear for his safety. We stopped on a flat car -and gave him a brief explanation, then hurried forward and swung -ourselves into the familiar ice chest, for we were nearing the -snowsheds. - -The trainman soon joined us. He told a long story about some division -official who was death on hoboes, and who made a practice of travelling -up and down the line and pouncing on the train crews at unexpected -places in hope of catching them in some infraction of the rules, which -would enable him to indulge in his love of discipline. This martinet -took a special delight in harrying the men, and would suspend an employé -for sixty days on the smallest pretext, or deprive a man of his credits -for the slightest infraction of some unimportant rule. - -“He’s a Company pet, who was born with the big head and then bitten by -the efficiency bug,” our companion concluded, “and if he should catch a -woman on this freight it would be as much as all our jobs are worth.” - -At that moment a man thrust his head into the manhole and called the -brakeman out. He ascended quickly and his place was taken by the other, -who proved to be the conductor. Dan started to speak, but was -interrupted. - -“Let the woman talk. I’ll get the truth from her.” - -So I began the old, old story, and after a bit secured permission to -ride as close to Sacramento as we dared. We were well outside the -snowsheds when the conductor left us, and I settled down with the -thought that the worst was over. - -As the train pulled out of a station the light was cut off abruptly and -a young man in a business suit bounced into the ice chest. As he landed, -I looked up and caught sight of the horrified face of the brakeman -leaning over the manhole. - -“Who put you in here? How much did you pay that brakeman to let you -ride?” he demanded fiercely. - -“Why, we haven’t paid anybody—we haven’t seen any brakeman. We just got -in when the train slowed up back there a ways; and we took good care not -to see any brakeman or let any brakeman see us,” I answered innocently. - -“But what are you doing here, and where are you going?” - -“Oh, we came up from Sacramento for a little camping trip. My husband -thought he could get a little work in the mountains, but he couldn’t -find any, and we spent most of our money, and then started to walk home. -This old freight came crawling along, and there wasn’t anybody on the -far side of the track, so just for a lark we slipped in here.” - -“So, you’re sure your husband didn’t pay the brakeman for the chance, -are you?” - -“You bet I am. Do you suppose anybody would pay good money for riding in -this old hole? Besides, we haven’t any money. I couldn’t see anything -wrong about riding, exactly. But, of course, we didn’t want the trainmen -to see us. I was afraid they might not like it, and I’m dead sure nobody -but you knows we’re here.” - -The brakeman’s face appeared for an instant in the manhole above, then -disappeared from view. - -“You’re not going to put us off, way out here, are you?” I asked -pleadingly. “It’s awful hard to walk clear down to Sacramento this hot -weather, and carry these heavy bundles. It didn’t cost the railroad -company anything for us to ride here. We ain’t doing any harm.” - -The young man’s face softened a trifle and he launched into a long -dissertation on the evils of jumping trains, the hobo menace, and -kindred topics, to all of which I listened with wide eyes and bated -breath. The train drew into a station and out again, while he was thus -absorbed, and he made no move to put us off. I was drawing him on with -deft questions and flattering attention when the brakeman’s head -appeared once more. - -“What in blazes is all this?” he bawled. “Hey, you bums, come out of -there.” - -Our kind instructor cast a startled look aloft. “Why, hello, Condon,” he -called ingratiatingly. “You are on the job, I see. But these people -don’t happen to be bums. Everything is all right. I’ll assume the -responsibility, so just trot along and leave us alone.” - -He resumed his pompous attitude and took up the delightful task of -enlightening me on the importance of his position, which he declared was -extremely difficult to fill. I gathered that the destinies of the entire -railroad system rested on his narrow shoulders; that he was the original -efficiency expert; and that all other employés of the Company, from -train boy to superintendent, were a lot of mutts, if not worse, and were -it not for his constant supervision and stern discipline, the division -would just naturally go to the bow-wows. The miles slipped by as I drank -in this information with greedy ears. His chest expanded like a pouter -pigeon and his hat band seemed to stretch visibly. - -The three of us were standing in one end of the restricted space when -once more the daylight was cut off and the conductor slid down beside -us. Completely ignoring our existence he turned a cold and hostile eye -upon our companion. - -“Sir,” he began stiffly, “I have been informed by a member of my crew -that a high official of this division has taken it upon himself not -alone to disregard the strict rules of this company regarding the -carrying of passengers on freight trains, but has arrogated to himself -the control and management of those directly responsible to me. Such a -situation is unprecedented, sir, and I hereby make formal protest -against its continuance.” - -While he was speaking I saw the shadow of a man pass the opening -overhead. - -“But, my dear man,” stammered the “high official,” wholly taken aback. -“How can you make such statements? I had absolutely no intention—no such -intentions at all. How can you make such a charge?” - -“The facts, sir, speak for themselves. My brakeman discovers his -superior closeted in the ice chest of a refrigerator car with a young -woman and an unknown man. When he endeavours to exercise that authority -with which he is vested by the rules of this company and requests the -said young woman and unknown man to leave the train at once, you, my -dear sir, impose the force of your superior station, and taking all -responsibility upon yourself order him to ‘trot along.’ I claim that -such conduct destroys efficiency and is fatal to discipline.” - -Our young entertainer seemed at a loss for a reply; then he plunged into -a long explanation of our presence and his intentions regarding us. The -conductor listened with an air of undiminished coldness. - -“Very well, sir,” he said shortly, at the close of the harangue. “Your -conduct is, of course, highly irregular, but I shall make no report of -it—at least not at present,” fixing the unfortunate “high official” with -a piercing glance. “As to your er—guests, I shall leave the matter of -their disposition entirely in your hands, since you have assumed the -responsibility.” - -The conductor swung himself out of the ice box while the young man -turned his harassed gaze upon us. - -“You better get off at Auburn,” he said weakly. “Climb out as soon as -the train stops, so nobody will see you.” - -As he clambered slowly out, the general impression was that of a man -about three sizes smaller than the one who had entered. - -We left the car the instant the train stopped at Auburn, but as we -hastened away we were hailed with loud shouts by the train crew, who -followed us on the run, headed by the brakeman. We stopped behind a row -of boxcars as they joined us. With whoops and howls they slapped one -another on the back, danced about, doubled up and fairly rolled on the -ground in convulsions of laughter. - -“Say, didn’t our old man hand that fellow some chunks of language? Say -now; didn’t he?” gasped the brakeman when he could speak. - -“He passed it out like a regular dictionary. Just the same kind of dope -that Little Tom-tit has been feeding us on so long,” sputtered the -fireman, who it seems had left the engine on the way down to join the -gleeful circle about the manhole while the circus was going on within. - -“Well, I guess I punctured his tire, all right,” vouchsafed the -conductor. “Guess he’ll go a little easy on efficiency and discipline -with this crew for a while.” - -“I wouldn’t have missed that performance for five hundred dollars,” -broke in the rear brakeman. “It was the richest thing I ever heard.” - -“You should have heard Miss Innocence here stringing him along when he -first came aboard. Her eyes kept a-glowing bigger and bigger, and his -chest kept a-swelling and a-swelling, till I thought I’d bust. Oh, he -was a wonderful man, all right, all right.” - -“Well, boys,” remarked the conductor, whipping off his cap. “You all -admit you enjoyed a good show, that would have had a very different -ending if it hadn’t been for the quick wit of this gritty lady. Chip in -now, and pay for your reserved seats.” - -Money rattled into the cap and despite our protestations the conductor -forced it into Dan’s hands. With quip and jest the men bade us good-bye, -and we passed over to the main street in search of a restaurant. Our -hunger appeased, we marched boldly to the station and took a passenger -train to Sacramento, where we made connection with the river boat for -San Francisco. - -So now I sit on the deck of the steamer and watch the green and fertile -country glide past. From time to time a signal flutters on the bank, the -boat swings over and the crew rapidly loads great boxes of plums, -luscious peaches, early pears, and crates of seedless grapes. Here comes -a man with a truckload of magnificent Burbank plums. I once read of the -little plum with the enormous pit, from which the California wizard -evolved this beautiful fruit. He did not attempt to change the nature of -the plum to that of some transcendental fruit. He simply modified the -environment so that the inherent qualities of the plum might develop. -Would that the environment of the little children of the slums and sweat -shops, to whom the meanest cull that lies in yonder orchard would be a -gracious treat, might be so modified as to give their essentially -beautiful, natural qualities an opportunity for healthy, normal growth. - -I give a sigh of contentment and happiness as I realise that the -hazardous journey is ended. And now I realise another fact. For weeks I -have been free from colds or cough; my digestion is superior to that of -an ostrich; a ten-mile jaunt with twenty pounds of baggage on my back -would be mere child’s play. A more healthy human specimen than myself it -would be hard to find, so I feel free to dismiss the spectre of -tuberculosis along with the other horrors of the slums. - -But physical benefit is not the greatest gain. A change has taken place -in my psychology. My belief in the inherent kindliness and unselfishness -of the human heart has been strengthened. In cases of cruelty I -recognise an outside influence or pressure that warps natural instincts. -Toward the trainmen especially I am deeply grateful. When one realises -the risks they ran to aid a couple of outcasts, and the kindness and -consideration so often manifested, a wonderful appreciation of their -sterling manhood is born. Never again will I think it necessary to -change human nature before we can improve social conditions. I am -conscious of a deeper human sympathy; a wider vision; a greater -understanding of the problems of the under dog and a closer sense of -fellowship with him. I feel that I am learning the divine lesson of -human unity, which is rooted in the Fatherhood of God and manifests -itself as the Brotherhood of Man. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Table of Contents added by transcriber. - 2. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 3. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - 4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Adventures of a Woman Hobo, by Ethel Lynn - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF A WOMAN HOBO *** - -***** This file should be named 62971-0.txt or 62971-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/9/7/62971/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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