I had caught a glimpse of the crawfish, though. There was no mistaking it; they were real crawfish all right, and were what we term "little teenie" ones. The man said they had been cooked very carefully and were well done. Of course the head is thrown away, and it is only the tail part that is eaten.
CHAPTER V.
A Hungry Ride of 308 Miles—"Hello, Hello in the Pipe There!"—To Work Again—Nabbed by a Cop.
Late one afternoon I crossed the river on a freight ferry to the Texas Pacific railroad yards.
That night I beat a freight train 208 miles to Boyce, La., reaching Boyce about 11 o'clock next morning. Another freight on the same day bore me to Marshall, Tex., 100 miles from Boyce.
All day long I had had nothing to eat and it was 9 o'clock at night when we reached the city of Marshall.
I had just one hour to get something to eat and get back to the depot, for the Dallas freight would pull out at 10 p. m.
I went four or five blocks up a side street and knocked on a cottage door. The occupants had retired, but a second knock brought the madam to the door.