Mr. Stillwell marched me out of the hotel and down the street without further words.
"Going right to New York?"
"None of your business."
"But it is my business," and I stood still.
"Can't you see we are?" he retorted.
After this hardly a word passed between us. When he arrived at the depot he said sourly:
"I suppose you haven't any ticket?"
"I haven't."
"Have you any money to buy it with?"
"If you want me to go to New York you will have to buy me a ticket," was my reply.