The Judge snorted with contempt.
"How far are you going?" he finally growled, after a prolonged inspection of the imperturbable Jimmy.
"Baltimore. Why? Like to get off where I do so you can keep with better company than yourself? You can get off there if you wish. I don't own the town."
This seemed the final straw to the camel's burden; for the Judge suddenly popped up in his seat, called to the Pullman conductor who happened to be standing at a little distance down the aisle, and when the latter approached asked, "Isn't there any possible way of exchanging my berth for another?"
"Yes, do help him out, Conductor," implored Jimmy with marked solicitude. "He doesn't like me a bit."
The Pullman potentate stared at the two men incredulously, now that he noted their physical similarity, and, accepting it as a banter, remarked, "Can't see why twin brothers should disagree."
"I'll not brook any of your impudence," thundered the Judge in such unmistakable anger that the conductor speedily became apologetic, and consulted his book.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said; "a stateroom reservation ordered for Harmonsville has been canceled. You are going through to Washington, aren't you? Well, you can have that on payment of the extra fare."
"Let him have it. I'll pay the difference if he's at all short," Jimmy urged, hopefully. "It's very kind of you, Conductor, because he's not feeling at all well. What he needs is a long rest."
"What you need is a jail," growled the Judge, and ordered his luggage removed to the vacant stateroom.