About daylight we caught a freight train.
A long smokestack of some kind was loaded on a flat-car.
Into the smutty stack we crawled, he entering one end and I the other, and crawled until our heads met in the middle.
When we came together White was trembling all over.
"I've done everything since leaving home but hobo," said he.
He reminded me of my own experience through South Carolina and Georgia.
We made a lot of noise getting into the stack, and had not more than become comfortable when a brakeman's lantern was thrust into one end.
"Hello! Hello! in the pipe there," he shouted.
We crawled out and asked him to let us go, but it was "no go."
"Give me a dollar apiece, or off you go at the next stop," said the brakeman, and he kept his word. We were put down at a little town sixteen miles from Vernon, Texas.