"So you're a kind little girl."
"I ain't as good as I ought to be," she said, warmly; "but I'm goin' to try to be better. Oh, sir, are we at Ciscasset yet?"
"No, this is Vanceboro, the border station between Canada and the States. I guess you'd better come this way for Ciscasset, little girl."
"Why, this train goes direct to Ciscasset," interposed the old lady.
"Yes, ma'am, but this little girl is a stop-over. She'll probably go on the next train."
The old lady grew suspicious. "You let that child alone, sir. Where's the conductor? Conductor, I say, come here. Can't some one get the conductor? Don't go with him one step, little girl."
'Tilda Jane, grown very pale, gazed apprehensively at the man, and did not offer to leave her seat.
He threw back his coat and displayed a badge. "Madam, I'm a government inspector."
"A government inspector! What's that?" the old lady spluttered, eyeing him over her glasses.
"Well, madam, there ain't much time for explanation, but I can tell you this much, namely, that we have to detain and examine all persons without means of livelihood who attempt to enter the United States from foreign countries."