The conductor looked hard at Stephen, and took in at a glance his ragged clothes, dirty shoes, and flannel shirt; then he grinned.
“That was mighty considerate of you, stranger; now let’s have your ticket. We have almost reached our next stop.”
Stephen pretended to feel in his pockets, though he well knew that it was useless. The other people in the train were beginning to stare.
“To be put off a train would be far pleasanter in imagination than in reality,” flashed across Stephen’s mind.
“Hurry up, now,” repeated the conductor. “Where is your ticket?”
“I haven’t any,” Loring blurted out.
“Come on, now, no nonsense! fork up!” insisted the conductor.
“I would gladly, if I had any money,” rejoined Stephen, then with seeming irrelevancy, he added: “How far is it from here to the ‘City’?”
“It is about seven hundred miles,” answered the conductor, “but I am sure you will find it a delightful walk.”