[CHAPTER V.]
The four months during which I was separated from my dear old pal soon passed. My time at home that fall was taken up in literary and athletic circles.
Christmas came and the day was drawing near for my departure to the Pacific Coast where I was pledged to meet my friend.
I left on the day following Christmas and arrived in San Francisco January 4th, the day before the cherished reunion. En route I spent pleasant short stops in St. Louis, Kansas City, the Grand Canyon of Arizona, and the petrified forest.
The morning of January 4th, I crawled out of my bed in a Frisco hotel feeling that within a few hours there was to be a happy reunion. On inquiry I learned that Palo Alto was only an hour's ride from 'Frisco, a distance of forty-four miles. The train was scheduled to depart at eleven o'clock so a short while before eleven I boarded the car in front of my hotel for the Townsend Street Station. As ill luck would have it, I arrived at the Station just five minutes after the train for Palo Alto had departed. I learned that the next train would not leave till three o'clock, so I promptly despatched a message, which read:
Mr. William Anderson,
Palo Alto, California:
Missed train; meet you same place four o'clock.
Jack.