"Come along inside." The porter slipped through the opening, and he winced as he heard the door close and the lock snap. "What's the trouble?"
"Dey's a big freight wreck beyon' de nex' town, an' we'se t' be stalled ontil mo'nin', suh."
"What!" explosively.
"Yes, suh. Freight ovah de passenjah rails. An' den dey's dat new rule—coal an' freight fust. We can't get by dat wreck onless dey side-tracks de freight; an' de freight goes whoozin' by while we twiddle thumbs. It's dat Gahfield awdah; an' dey ain't no use buckin' ag'in' it, wah-times. Dey takes the diner off, too. No fish. So yo' will haff t' eat in de station aw go t' one o' de hotels in town."
"How big a town is this?"
"Middlin'; but dey's got a fine hotel called de Watkins, jus' a little ways f'm de station. Bath in all de rooms, suh."
"Bath in all the rooms," repeated Mathison, meditatively.
"I can bring yo' sumpin' in," suggested the porter, but without much enthusiasm. "Dey won't be no trimmin's like yo'd get at de hotel."
"How long will we be stalled?"
"Dey calc'lates ontil nine in de mo'nin', suh."