“This isn’t going to improve the appearance of my clothes—sleeping in ’em,” he mused. “Guess I’ll take off my coat and vest. I can save them a little that way, anyhow.”
Then Joe stretched out on his improvised bed and drew a long breath.
“Well, so far so good,” he told himself. “I’m on my way. Now the rest is up to Professor Rosello. I’ll see him in the morning.”
Joe did not easily go to sleep, though he was tired. He had a burden on his mind, and he was not a little worried.
“I wonder what the deacon will think when he wakes up and finds me gone?” thought Joe. “I guess it will surprise him.”
If Joe only knew!
Finally drowsiness came, and he slumbered through the rest of the night. The train rattled on, stopping now and then at stations to pick up or leave freight, but Joe knew nothing of this. He had thought that perhaps he might be put off the car by some brakeman, but he decided he must take chances on this. And, as it happened, he was not disturbed.
Joe was awakened by the sudden jolting stop of the train, and, as he opened his eyes he saw, through the partly shut door, that the sun was brightly shining.
“Good-morning—morning!” cried the lad. “I wonder what you have up your sleeve for me?”
Though he tried to be jolly with himself, he was not in very good shape for joking. He was lame and stiff from sleeping on the hay-bed, and he felt the need of washing, as any one does, even if he travels in a real Pullman. Then, too, he was hungry.