They must either have forgotten the time set for his arrival, or made some mistake as to the station at which he would land.
“I ought to be big enough to find my way around a city, even if I never was in one before,” he said to himself. “I reckon ’most anybody can tell me where Baker’s Court is, an’ I’ll jest give Bob an’ Tom a s’prise.”
The longer he revolved the plan in his mind the more feasible did it seem; and when the hands of the neighboring clock pointed to half-past two, he started valiantly forward toward the entrance of the ferry-slip.
Greatly to his surprise the ticket-taker called sharply to him at the moment when his valise had become wedged across the narrow passage in such a manner that he was forced to come to a halt, much to the annoyance of a stout lady immediately behind him, who was urged forward by the throng in the rear.
“Two cents!” the man cried, tapping impatiently on the ledge in front of him, and the stout lady said quite sharply:—
“Why don’t you have your money ready before coming inside, boy, and not delay people in this manner?”
“I didn’t know I had to pay anything; father bought me a ticket from Berry’s Corner to New York,” and Josiah allowed his valise to drop dangerously near the stout lady’s feet, as he began to explain more fully why he was impeding travel in such a manner.
“Never mind all that,” she said irritably. “Pay the money, and let me get past!”
Josiah tried to obey both these commands at the same moment.
With one hand he seized the valise, while with the other he attempted to extricate the huge pocket-book from its resting place, succeeding only in causing the anger of the lady to increase.