“Blazes!” I exclaimed. “How will I get home?”
I might have hopped all the way—four squares—but that novel mode of locomotion would have attracted public attention and placed me in an undignified light.
“Here it is,” said one of the girls, laughing. “I took it out when I left the boat.” And, much to my relief and delight, she handed it to me.
The other young lady also handed me my cane, which she had picked up on leaving the boat.
You had better believe I was glad, if you are fond of being correct in your opinion, for I was just making up my mind to row out upon the Lake again, and look for my crutch, as I thought it possible I might find it floating about somewhere. I would have had a wide bit of territory to canvass.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Traveling Companions.
ABOUT the middle of July, I resolved to return to Philadelphia before completing my tour; and one evening I took an express train for Pittsburg, via the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne and Chicago Railroad. The train was not crowded, and each passenger in the car I was in had a whole seat to himself.
We had traveled about a hundred miles, and were rolling across the State of Indiana, in the darkness of night, when two persons got on at a station, somewhere, came to the middle of the car, and one took a seat beside me, while the other sat immediately in front. I glanced casually at my companion, and had not the slightest difficulty in making out that he was a sharper.
“This is a fine evening,” he said to me, politely, as the train thundered onward.
“Very,” I replied.