To follow in detail the fortunes of the boy who later became Cole of Spyglass Mountain doubtless would make interesting reading; but that is not the purpose of this narrative. To tell how he was led westward like a dancing monkey on a chain by that errant vagabond, The Whimperer, would be to chronicle a series of strange adventures, the like of which never took place before in Trampdom. Joshua saw all the degradation of tramp life, met famous hobos and infamous hobos; slept in sand-houses, Salvation Army rooming houses, in coal bunkers, stretched out along the backs of several sheep bleating in a stock car, in cars of grain, beneath piles of lumber, and in many a well-known “jungle” camp. He saw all of the inner workings of the itinerant life which is so peculiarly an American institution, worked at many things, fought many battles—some won, some lost. Reduced to bitter hunger countless times, he almost lost his courage and began to believe himself nothing but a pawn of Fate. There is a strange lure about the life of the tramp that pleads with the most circumspect to renounce the ways of honest men and live the life of shiftlessness and freedom, and Joshua Cole did not escape it.
Time and again, in the beginning, he tried to lose himself from The Whimperer, but failed repeatedly. He did not know that, when he contrived to steal away and catch a train alone, a shadow followed him and watched his movements, then wired his whereabouts to his jocker, who overtook him by paying his fare on a first-class train. When the tramp caught up with him, however, he dared not resort to the common practice among men of this type of beating his road-kid. It was doubtful if the stiff old youth-drained yegg could have handled the boy just budding into manhood, so he resorted to wheedling pleas and worked on Joshua’s sympathy, at which The Whimperer was an adept.
They had been on the road together nearly a year, and the misfortunes of tramp life had whipped them here and there, north and south and east and west, which left Joshua far from the goal he sought, before The Whimperer learned of the value of the telescope. Joshua’s many efforts to evade the yegg had in great measure brought about this zigzag course; for his jocker knew that he was headed west, so Joshua had ridden north- and south-bound trains in the effort to deceive him. Now they were in Kansas, after having crossed that state several times, and settled in a “jungle” camp for the night.
The Whimperer lolled on one side of the campfire, and on the other side sat Joshua, in a begged suit of clothes much too large for him, looking up at his friends, the stars, and vaguely wondering what the future held in store for him.
“Rig up de ole look-see,” suggested The Whimperer, “an’ give us a slant at de eternal heavens.”
To the weird old panhandler the telescope was ever a thing to be wondered at, but, strange to say, he had talked very little with Joshua about it. In his twisted mind was the realization that this young man lived in a world apart from his, and he was not a little awed by Joshua’s knowledge. But to-night the stars were soft and radiant, and their spell fell upon the man. Then as Joshua began adjusting the refractor on its tripod, the yeggman asked:
“Say, wot does one o’ dem t’ings cost, kid?”
“This one,” said Joshua, “is worth five hundred dollars.”
The glory faded out of the stars. With a bound the tramp was on his feet. “Wot!” he gasped.