"New Orleans is crowded with tramps every winter. So is all the South, though they don't howl about the matter the way they do up North. You let New Orleans alone. You go to Texas and be a Ranger!"
"A Ranger? What sort?" asked Tommy.
"Range all over the country after hand-outs," replied the professional with another grin.
"You keep telling us about Texas and we are not going to Texas," said Ben.
"More fool you," placidly commented the Ranger. "Texas is a good state."
Ben was in despair of ever getting information from this source, but made one last effort to obtain it by asking the garrulous professional if they could get to New Orleans by the Iron Mountain road.
"Well, you can and you can't," was the highly unsatisfactory answer. "You can go from here to Little Rock, and can there get off on the Memphis and Little Rock Road. That road would take you to the river right opposite Memphis."
"Then it won't take us to New Orleans?"
"Oh, no. You'd have to jump a boat from Memphis. But I say! Why in thunder don't you jump a boat here? That's your best plan. Jump any of the New Orleans steamers an' keep your eye peeled for the clerk when he comes around. I see my buddy up the levee. Good-bye. Take the boat. Better go to Texas though. Might strike a Mexican revolution. Have one every new moon. Go to Texas. That's my notion," and shouting back these fragments of advice, the professional withdrew up the levee and was soon lost in the crowd.
"There Tom," said Ben, "we'll have to go by boat."