That was a hard and busy day for all three of the party. Perhaps Harry’s share was the easiest, for, by showing his father’s despatch to Mr. Farwell, he had everything made easy for him. Still, even influence might not have secured them places except for the aid of chance. It happened that a prominent man had, at the last moment, to give up a section in the Wagner sleeper, and this was turned over to Harry. So, late in the afternoon the boy came back with what he called “three gilt-edged accordion-pleated tickets.”
Meanwhile Mr. Douglass and Philip had put into three traveling-bags as much as six would hold, and the party went to bed early to get a good rest before the long journey.
A WILDERNESS OF IRON.—BUILDING MACHINERY HALL.
Next day at nearly half-past four the three travelers walked through the passageway at the Grand Central Depot, had their tickets punched,—and Philip noticed that the man at the gate kept tally on a printed list of the numbers of different tickets presented,—and entered the mahogany and blue-plush Wagner cars.
In a few minutes some one said quietly: “All right,” and the train gently moved out.
“I can remember,” said Mr. Douglass, “when a train started with a shock like a Japanese earthquake. Now this seemed to glide out as if saying, ‘Oh, by the way, I think I’ll go to Chicago!’”
Harry laughed. “Yes,” he said, “and how little fuss there is about it. Why, abroad, I remember that they had first a bell, then a yell, then a scream, then the steam!”
As the train passed through the long tunnel just after leaving the station, Mr. Douglass remarked:
“How monotonous those dark arches of brickwork are!”