It seemed to me that I had put my life into the keeping of a peculiarly reckless outcast. Presently he turned on me and said:
“What’s the name of the first point above New Orleans?”
I was gratified to be able to answer promptly, and I did. I said I didn’t know.
“Don’t know?”
This manner jolted me. I was down at the foot again, in a moment. But I had to say just what I had said before.
“Well, you’re a smart one!” said Mr. Bixby. “What’s the name of the next point?”
Once more I didn’t know.
“Well, this beats anything. Tell me the name of any point or place I told you.”
I studied a while and decided that I couldn’t.
“Look here! What do you start out from, above Twelve-Mile Point, to cross over?”