This adventure fascinated me. I gave no thought to the burglary. It seemed right that I should have a coat and food. My money was behind in the jail. I couldn’t buy them. I had stolen them. Somehow I felt satisfied, as if I had got even with somebody.
“How do you like this racket, kid?” Smiler asked as we rolled up our coats for pillows.
“It’s great. How long have you been doing it?”
“Oh, a couple of years. Ever since the coppers run me out of my home town, Detroit. That was a snide little caper we cut back there and I wouldn’t have touched it only you had to have a coat. How would you like to be a prowler, kid?”
I liked him, always smiling, for his ready help when I needed it and his companionable ways.
“I think I would like it; it’s exciting.”
“All right, kid. When we get to Salt Lake I’ll show you the real thing.”
“Good,” I said. “How long will it take us to make Salt Lake?”
“About a week at this rate.”
“Let’s ride the passenger trains,” I said, anxious to take my first lessons in burglary.