THEN HE COMMENCED CURSING.
I threw myself back with my thumbs under my arms and said: "Now, blaze away and when you think you have cursed out the value of your ticket, let me know and I will pass on." That was about one o'clock in the morning. Presently the engineer rang his bell and the Captain jumped on, shaking his fist at me as the train pulled out. I responded by shaking both my fists at him. That is my way of keeping out of a row with a conductor, wait until he gets off. Of course I was very mad while he was cursing, but I was in no condition to fight.
I went to the hotel and registered my name like a gentleman: "W. B. Crumpton, San Francisco, Cal." When I awoke the next morning, and looked into a glass, for the first time in six weeks, I was like Pat, when he said: "Pat, is this you, or is it somebody else?" I had been over the camp-fires and my face was smoked and greasy, and I looked more like a negro than a white man. By diligent use of soap and water, I got myself clean down to my collar. I had an old woolen comforter, that I had worn around my neck. I turned it wrong side out, pinned it close around my throat, spread it over the front of my dirty shirt, buttoned my coat and, imagine I made a right decent appearance. I took my seat at the table, crowded with people. I have no recollection when anybody got up. I came to myself after a while, when I asked for another biscuit, I looked at the negroes, whose eyes were almost popping out, and I realized that I was the only one at the table. I looked at the astonished lady at the end of the room and stammered out: "Is this Mrs. Edmondson? Excuse me please, I am nearly starved." She insisted on my eating more, but I didn't have the face to do it. I said: "Mrs. Edmondson, do you remember a boy coming here two years ago and hiring a horse and buggy to go out to Garlandsville?" She said: "Yes, I remember you well." I told her my story, and asked her to credit me until my people could send her the money, to which she readily consented.