"Wrong corral, sah?"
"Yes; I must be mixed in with the wrong brand. Where's the regular coach?"
"Oh, dis coach am all reg'lar, sah. Reg'lar as can be. We ain't got none but reg'lar coaches on dis yeah express. No indeed, sah."
"But I guess my ticket doesn't entitle me to a ride in a private car."
"Let me see youh ticket, sah."
Roy passed the negro the bit of pasteboard.
"Oh, yes indeedy, sah. Youh is all right. Dis am de coach youh g'wine to ride in. We goes all de way to Chicago, sah."
"Is this for regular passengers?" asked Roy, wondering how the railroad could afford to supply such luxurious cars.
"Well, it's fo' them as pays fo' it, sah. Youh has got a ticket fo' de Pullman car, an' dis am it, sah. Let me show yo' to youh seat, sah."
"Well, I s'pose it's all right," remarked Roy a little doubtfully. He saw several passengers smiling, and he wondered if they were laughing at him, or if he had made a mistake. He resolved to be careful, as he did not want it known that he was making a long journey for the first time.