“This looks good to me,” said Mr. Tinker. “I only hope, in using it, I will not be getting into trouble with the Interstate Commerce Commission.”
“Never fear for that,” said Charlie Hammond, who called to greet his old chieftain. “When you get rested I will take you down the Mow Pack from St. Louis to Houston, Tex., in my private car ‘Telegraph,’ and I will give you a life-long pass over the route, and lifetime here means eternity, if you want to remain here.”
Mr. Tinker remarked, like St. Peter, that “It is good to be here,” and the whole assemblage replied by a fervent “Amen.”
These little spheres are peopled by ex-inhabitants of the Earth, who got tired of their long journey and desired to tarry on the way.
Mr. Tinker recognized some faces in passing, but as he was on a thorough express train he could not stop to exchange greetings.
The day was spent in a patriotic manner, many eloquent addresses being made by former statesmen and warriors, and soul-inspiring melodies filled the air from all sides.
Truly, it was a never-to-be-forgotten day and even the oldest inhabitant of this delightful place, Methusaleh by name, voted it to be a red letter day in the history of the planet Mars.