I left the waiting room and returned home with my mother.
It was my usual habit to be at home at 4 o'clock on Sundays, but being absent at that time on this occasion, my mother, thinking it probable I was going to a Latter-day Saint evening meeting at Stockton by steamer, came to the boat landing to look for me.
The next morning my mind was fully set to make a third attempt to leave home.
At dinner time, seeing Richard a little ahead of me on the street, I quickly overtook him and said:
"Now, Richard, make up your mind to go away to-night."
He was surprised, and said:
"We have been stopped twice now, and I don't think it's right for us to go away again; but I'll go with you if you want me to."
We then arranged to meet at the theatre, which was near a boat landing, at 7:30 that evening; he agreeing to bring with him out of my box (which was at Sister Scott's), a tin cup, some writing paper, envelopes, and pen and ink.
The working hours in the printing office were from 8 a.m. till 7:30 p.m. The train by which I intended to leave had to start at 7:45 p.m.
Shortly after 7 o'clock that evening it began to rain. The suit I wore was very thin and I would soon be wet through. I discovered also that a new pocket knife, recently purchased, had been left behind; so, thinking of the rain, my poor clothes and the knife, I was in two minds whether to go that night or not. I walked up and down the room in which I worked, hardly knowing what to do. Twenty-five minutes past seven came, but I was still undecided in my mind.