But Wasson rejoined that he did not believe a word of it.
"It can't be done," said Smythe, positively. "No man could do it. I couldn't do it myself!"
"Yes it can be done," cried Cleveland, "whether you could do it or not. I could do it."
"You!"
"Yes, me!"
"I'd be willing to give you three months, and wager that then you could not. You'd starve to death in three days, and commence telegraphing us to come and bring you home before you crossed New Jersey," said Smythe, contemptuously deriding the idea of Cleveland's undertaking the feat.
"Don't be too sure about that, Smythe," retorted Cleveland, warming up. "What man has done, man can do. If that fellow came from New Orleans here in a little over three weeks without a cent, I can go from here to New Orleans in the same time on a like amount of money. I'll wager ten thousand dollars I can do it!" And Mr. Benjamin Cleveland arose to his feet and nodded his head in an aggressive manner, though he had not the remotest idea his challenge would be accepted, and only made the boast to support his assertion. Great then was his surprise—and a surprise not untinctured with consternation, when Smythe quickly replied, "I take the bet. Hough, Wasson, you heard Ben. It's a bargain. When will you start, Cleveland?"
But Ben courageously backed his assertion by quickly replying,
"To-morrow!"
"Pshaw! Cleveland, don't make a fool of yourself," spoke up Wasson. "Even if that fellow did really do as he says he did, remember, he is a professional tramp, and you would be but a novice, at best. You will lose your money, sure."