“That’s a cactus,” said another tramp. “I forgot to tell you they’re thick around here.”
The best part of an hour was spent in picking spines from their respective hides, and then they once more went to rest, this time carefully inspecting the premises to avoid the cactus.
Next morning they started for the Milford Bridge resolved to quit Jersey forever; but at the bridge they were met by the toll-keeper who declined to allow them to pass without the customary two cents each. This they did not have but were forced to beg with poor success—plenty to eat but no money. Just at this point they were stopped by the constable who put them under arrest for begging.
“Say, friend,” said Harvard Jim, “if you will find us a place where we can saw some wood for a quarter we will pay our way over the bridge and stay away from Jersey.”
“All right,” said the constable, “I have some wood myself.”
For two hours they toiled, one with the saw, the other with the axe, sawing and splitting a huge pile of firewood, inspected meanwhile by the constable. At the end of this time they struck work and were offered ten cents each.
“Have a heart, brother,” said Ike, “that’s no way to treat us.”
“Beat it, or I’ll put you in the jug,” said he, “and none of your lip, either.”
They were silent until they reached the middle of the bridge; then Ike shook his fist at Jersey and swore furiously.
“Breakin stone, trampin in snow, sleepin on cactus, sawin wood, an cheatin constables. Damn such a State!”