Evening Star Newspaper, May 19, 1894, Page 20

20 WINNING HIS STAR, so oe SOR THE ADVENTURES OF PAUL TRAVERS. ; ‘Written for The Evening Star by Sam Clover. nen 2 @opyrighted, 1804. All rights reserved.) AUL WAS A NOV- P= at track walking end after covering the first five miles he felt very tired, but he kept doggedly cn, as he had planned to, pass the night at Golden, fourteen tiles from Denver. While he was Iimp- ing along feeling de- cide@iy uncomfopt- able and lonesome he ‘ came suddenly to a etilvert on which was seated a tall, slim 1dd'perhaps a year older than himself. »“Waikin’ good?” the latter_asked, quiz- Rieslly; as Paul stepped on the cross-ties. How far is it to “Paul groaned. “Why, a man back there about a mile said it,was only three.” “Yes? Well, lem’me tell you that the f@llows out here make mighty curious cal- quiafions. A Colorado mile’s equal to two opfnary ones back east, ‘spetially if you're W&lkin’. Goin’ to stay long at Golden?” “Only over night; I'm on my way to Chey- “Walk?” “I guess so. “Well, that’s what I call a plece of luck; bonnd that far myself.” What do you say, shall we hoof it together?” Paul signified his willingness and sitting on the culvert with his feet dangling alorg- side of those of his companion the two com- tam You Do Anythiux to Pay for Your Dinner? notes. Neither had a nickel, but Were headed for San Francisco and ey solemnly shook hartis to go through ““partners.” Paul's new acquaintance his name was Dick Tracy; that he had dered up to Colorado from Texas and had _ coneludt4 to spend the winter in southern California. He was a lively youth with a fund of en- tertaining stories regarding his cowboy adventures in the lone dur state. particularly clever, but sharp-witted, owing to ifs long contact with the world. His ex- ces gained while on the tramp were fmvaluable to them in their present plight, as Paul presently discovered. The nfiles now seemed much shorter, and it was not long before the smoke from the Smelters at Golden were uncovered. The 6 o'clock whistles were fust founding as they Passed the little station and their piercing shrick seemed to intensify the fact that It Was supper time. “See here,” observed Dick, as the ‘wo sat om an empty soap box at the end of the Gitform. “yot're new to this sort o” thing. Walt here for me ile I go uptown aud fiistie for supper. I'll be back in three es of a lamb’s tail, see if I don’t,” and fore Paul could enter a protest he was Dick managed to keep his word, teturn- ing in about ten minutes with several slices of bread and butter and some cold steak that he said the cook in an eating house had handed him from the back door. As both were hungry they made short work of the provisions, afterward rinsing their throats at a big tank near the station. “Looks dubious, doesn't it?” remarked Paul as they sat on the edge of the plat- form an hour Mater after having searched im vain for an empty car in which, to pass the night. “That's what!” returned Dick, senten- tiously. “Guess we'll have to crawl under Mat pil o” ties stacked over yonder; it’s the best thing in sight.” It was a chilly retreat, but the boys ite pretty tired and slept soundly with il's blanket wrapped around their shoul- "Ein They awoke early, made their toilet "the tanR. and at 6 o'clock Dick said he essed he'd go up and strike the cook for eak fast. He was absent about half an hour, but re- turned with full hah “Had to split some Wood.” he explained. “Cook said he wouldn’t feed no more tramps unless they did a spell ©’, work. Didn't hurt myself though,” he added. with a chuckle. “Pitch into this stuff, Paul; I ate all I, could hold up there.” Golden to Boulder, thence to Long- Fignt._Loveland and Fort Collins, the two tramped: sleeping in empty box e: fm deserted section houses, as the o} More Downhearted Than Ever. mity presented. Paul had managed to over- come his repugnance to ask for food, but ‘ever failed to offer his sérvices first. Some- ‘times he was given a stick or two of wood So-saw, but more often than not his fresh JOURS face won the desired meal without ‘ther parleying. The worst part of the journey was now Before the pair. From Fort Collins t Lone ‘Tree stretched a thirty-mile desert, abso- Jutely without shade or water, so, after a Jong discussion, the lads decided to wait un- til sunset before attempting’ ‘They passed the afternoon | eping pear sthe fair grounds, and on awaking had a re- freshing bath in an irrigating ditch adja- eit. Toward 6 o'clock the boys made a Sorry meal on the remnants saved from din- fer, after which they bravely started down the track on theft all-night tramp. The first few hours were beguiled by Yengthy dissertations on favorite delicacies, fw which each minutely described his ideai @ah, but finding this was provo Runger,-they finally desisted and adogged walk. Toward midnight the wind came on very fresh, and the howling of the soyotes on both sides of the track tendered lads slightly uncomfortable, but they closely together, and+although neither coyld see the other, they gathered courage fram tH®ir companionship. - Tt Was a long night and a tedious tram S80 that the first gray streaks of dawn se ed vexdtiousiy slow in appearing. Sunrise found them in the vicinity of a deserted sec- tion-house two miles from Lone Tree, with & record ‘of twenty-eight miles to’ their credit. Utterly exhausted, the boys spread but their single blanket, and throwing them- Selves upon it, sank immediately into deep slumber. The sun was high in the heavens when Paul awoke, hungry and stiff after his long walk. Dick was still snoring’ in the shade of the shant where he A shout from his co htm to open his eyes, emit a long #0, wonder how long they had slept “Must be nearly noon, aid Paul, glancing upw A I should judge, ard. “Time we we eed on to Lone Tree to capture break- Lone Tree consisted of a single ranch and the new section-house. Dick said he would take the ranch while Paul went on to try , his luck at the red-painted house adjoining the track. A little woman, carrying a big —— answered his knock at the kitchen rr. “Can you do anything to pay for a din- ner?” \she said, repeating Paul's question, meantime eyeing him critically. “I guess you can. Jest take that bucket and go to the tank and fill it with water; after that mebbe I'll have somethin’ for you to eat.” Pau trudged off with the wooden pail and presently returning, set it down in the kitchen sink. A big pile of unwashed dishes stood on a low bench, and through an open doorway the remnants of a meal were dis- cernible on the dining room table. While Paul discussed a generous plate of corn beef and cabbage the little woman sat on a chair and told her troubles. She was the wife of the section boss, with six men to board; her baby was only a month old and her hired girl had left her only two days before on half an hour's notice. She was utterly tired out and would feel very grate- ful if Paul would stay and assist her in the kitchen until she could engage help from Cheyenne. As the delay of a few days mattered little to Paul he readily consented to remain and wheerfully set to work on the pile of dishes ‘as soon as he finished his dinner, or, rather, breakfast. When Dick came up an hour later he found Paul installed at an open window in the little sitting room with a fat baby in his lap that was crooning away in great glee. “Must ha’ struck some o” yer relations, I reckon,” ejaculated Dick, with a broad grin on his freckled face. “No, sir; I have hired out as assistant dishwasher and nurse to the family. Please go away; we don’t want any tramps around Then, as Dick grinned again in ap- preciation of this joke, Paul asked, “Did they treat you as well over yonder?” “Jest a hand-out, that's all. No good there tonight, though,” added Dick,disconsolately. “Oh, well, I guess I can fix you out if you hang around here, but keep shady, as I wouldn’t want them to think I was in league with a gang of tramps.” Paul stayed three days at the section house, at the end of which time the little woman had inveigled a stout Norwegian girl from Cheyenne to Lone Tree. The sec- tion boss gave him $2 for his trouble and passed him on to Union Pacific Junction by the regular passenger train. Dick had gone up the night previous on a freight, having agreed to meet Paul at the junction next “Rnd there they did meet, but not as either had expected. When Paul jumped from the train ne asked one of the station hands if he had seen a lad answering to Dick's de- duck, with it he?’ here.” hair an’ big blue eyes, wi es, I guess that’s Dick. “Well, I reckon he’s in the freight house long stretched out acrost two barrels, deader’n a door nail; the crowner’s in there now. “Dead! Dick dead! What do you mean “Killed last night on No. 6. Went sleep on the brakes an’ got his head crus! ed. You'll find out all ther perticklers in there if you ask ther crowner.” It was horrible, but only too true, as Paul discovered when he entered the freight room. His late comrade lay outstretched on a board, around which stood six men in charge of the coroner from Cheyenne, a verdict of accidental death while stealing a ride having just been rendered. There was nothing on the body to identify the remains, and Paul could only say that the name of the dead lad was Tracy and that his home was somewhere in Texas. As this information shed no light on the case the coroner curtly ordered the body to be sent to Cheyenne for burial, and the last look Paul had of his late companion was when he lay in a cheap pine coffin awaiting transportation to the city. He turned away with a sickening feeling at his heart. It might be his fate any moment. CHAPTER IV. For many hours Paul wandered aimlessly through the streets of Cheyenne, so utt! depressed in spirit because of Dick's tr: death that he felt no desire to eat,-even had he po: ed the means to pay for a meal. About 4 o’clotk In the afternoon, when his stomach vigorously rebelled against its Prolonged fast, the lad mechanically bent his steps to 1a restaurant, but just be- fore-entering it he suddenly remembered that the money given him by the section boss was gone. On the way to Cheyenne from the junc- tion Paul had encountered a gang of tramps, some of the members of which had relieved him of his blanket and under- er clothes and coolly appropriated his knife, revolver, tin cup and the two-dollar bill, but had allowed him to retain his tooth brush and pocket comb, for which articles, apparently, none of the party had the slightest use. Thankful to get off with a whole skin and with the clothes he wore, Paul had sub- mitted philosophically to the robbery, see- ing that it was worse than useless to enter any protest, but the incident had not tend- ed to elevate his spirits, and, more down- hearted than ever, he continued his tramp into town. Turning disconsolately from the restaurant he spied a pleasant-faced boy standing in the doorway of a grocery store, with whom, after short parley, he managed to trade a natural agate for a piece of cheese and a handful of crackers. The edge of his hunger worn off, he con- tinued Ris tramp around town until the gathering dusk warned him he had better hunt sleeping quarters for the night. o'clock, after meeting repeated rebuffs, Paul grew desperate, -and approaching blue-coated man standing under a gas lamp inquired if he could help him to a night's lodging. “Can I? Well, I should say are you doing around here, any ay?” the man demanded in an authoritative voice. Paul explained that he was a stranger and had no money. . “Oh, you haven't, eh? Well, I can fix you out, young fellow; just come with me,” and up the street he started, half dragging the unwilling lad, who began to suspect the lodging provided might not be at all to his liking. This suspicion shortly became a certainty, when, after traversing a few blocks, the burly stfanger pushed the hesitating youth up a stairway, over the entrance to which Was a lamp bearing the legend “City Hall” ineblack letters on the glass. Down a long corridor Paul was marched by his captor, who by this time had announced himself as the city marshal. Halting before an tron-grated door the officer produced a big key, which he fitted to the lock and turned the bolt back with a smart snap that sent a shiver through the frame of his prisoner, who realized with painful suddenness that he was about to be thrust in jail. The thought was so agoniz- ing that he turned fiercely upon the marshal and protested vehemently against the indig- n You keep quiet, youngster, or mebbe you'll get more than you bargained for. We have just one place for all tramps and va- grants. Inside here you stay until 8 o'clock tomorrow morning, and {f you don’t pull your freight then lively like as not you'll get sent up for sixty days, so take warn- ng.”* It was a bitter dose for the poor lad, but Paul had no recourse. Argument with the bullet-headed officer was useless, so, swal- lowing his indignation along with a few salty tears, he passed through the heavily barred, door, which closed with a bang. Then Paul found himself in a large cell, in the center of which a smoky, ofl lamp shed its dim rays over the room, dmitting at the same time a most villainous smell. As soon as he became accustomed to the uncertain light Paul discerned a dozen shapeless forms,wrapped in blankets, strung out around the brick-walled chamber, from some of which the most unmelodious snores emanated. A drunken brfte in one corner, who persiste otic yells, was betn two Wwakeful tram) r kicked into silence by whose rest the noi: ler had disturbed, and a general upris- was threatened, when the crazed wretch sank back into unconsciousness and the agi- tated blankets returned to their former ap- pearance of torpidity. Not a pleasant situation for a delicately in filling the air with his idi-| THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MAY 19, 1894-TWENTY PAGES. be placed in, and Pa heart was like lead as he thought of pass ing the night in such hideous company. A single window at the farther end of the cell, guarded by iron bars, admitted a sickly glare from a street lamp, and toward this spot Paul picked his way, the broad sill suggesting ta him, in the absence of chair or table, a @@ssible camping place for the night Where he would at least be semi-de- tached from the other inmates. With his back against the casing and his feet planted on the opposite side, Paul man- aged to snatch a few hours of sleep, but racking nightmares haunted his rest and several times before daylight he awoke from frightful dreams, in which he suffered men- tal tortures. The first to open his eyes in the morning, he had ample opportunity to study his fel- low lodgers before they awoke. A more dis- reputable gathering it would have been hard to find anywhere, and Paul shuddered as he surveyed the brutal faces of the sleepers, who appeared even more repulsive in the gray dawn. On the walls of the cell, once white, were scratched dozens of fanciful, if not elegant, nicknames of the various choice visitors that on former occasions had been compul- sory guests of this queer lodging house. Here and there were grinning skulls, start- lingly suggestive hanging scenes, hideous “4 Should Smile.” caricatures, ribald verses, and other {llustra- tions of like nature, penciled by rude artists | whose term of incarceration had been be- gulled in this manner. The lad’s cheeks burned with honest blushes as he contem- plated this offensive decoration, and he sud- denly experienced an acute nostalgic attack that almost made him forswear his tramp and resolve to return home. Suddenly he was aware of a pair of black eyes watching him from below, and pres- ently their owner straightened up, threw off his blanket, and disclosed the features of a man who might have been anywhere between the age of thirty and forty, a closer estimate being impossible to make, owing to the accumulation of dirt he carried. “Whatcher tn fer?” he demanded of Paul. “Liftin’?”" Paul was shrewd enough to guess this meant stealing, so he shook his head nega- tively, adding, half humorously: “Reckon the marshal was afraid I might run away with the town, though, so he put me in here for fear of accidents.” The owner of the black eyes and dirty face con tescended to grin at this Mippancy and then observed, “trampin’ it, eh?" “Trying to,” answered Paul. “I want to get through to San Francisco. “"Frisco? Oh, yer do! Goin’ ter walk there, I s'pose? Nice time ye'll have crossin’ the mountains. Me an’ Seldom Seen’s bound that far, but we don't do no walkin’, though, does we, Seldom?” and the speaker turned toward a man with a grizzled beard whose frowzly head had just emerged from a villainous blanket. F “Not none,” growled the newly-awakened oan “We never walks nowhere, we “But you can’t afford to ride all the time, though, can you?” queried Paul. i The grizzled tramp laughed derisively at this exhibition of innocence. “O" course we kin. An’ we allers takes a Poolmin box car an’ has ther drorin’-room section ter ourselves.'’ Then, with mock gravity, he inquired of his partner: “Jimmy, did yer engage er trough sleeper to Ogden fer us la's night?” “Ye bet F did,” answered his comrade, whose full cognomen Paul discovered was Jimmey-Hit-the-Road-a-Welt. “Got a pri- vate parler reserved, an’ we pulls out ter night, sure.’ ‘Good 'nuff,” returned Seldom Seen, ‘that'll get us ter Salt Lake nex’ Friday.” In his talks with Dick Tracy Pan! bad learned how readily the expert tramps “spring” open the doors of box-cars to steal rides; but he also knew that it was a dan- serous practice as well as a state’s prison offense; yet he was strongly tempted to ask these two worthies to let him adcompany them, if only for the sake of the experience he might gain. He determined to make the venture. “Say, Jimmy,” he began, somewhat ner- vously, “do you suppose I could join you and Seldom Seen in this trip, or will it in- terfere with your plan: “Come, fer all I keer,” said Jimmy. “Wot do you say, Seldorn?”" “I = Tet ther kid in ef she ain't afraid ter resk precious carkiss. r '$ a go, then,” cried Paul, by way of a clincher, “and I’ willing to take all chances if you ar By this time the rest of the inmates of the cell had come out of their semi-coma- tose state, and presently a jailor appeared with some chunks of coarse, dry bread and a big pannikin full 6f steaming liquor which Jimmy declared was “corfy."” Paul scalded his mouth with a cup of the dark mixture and gnawed away at the dry bread, a thick slice of which was tossed to him by the sur- ly official whose curses were liberally be- stowed with his more tangible offerings. Half an hour later the door opened again and the city marshal entered to release those against whom no charges were pend- ing. Paul was dismissed with caution, while Seldom Seen and Jimmy-Hit-the-Road- a-Welt were threatened with severe penal- ties if they did not make themselves ‘scarce. Then the chief of police pointed to the door, and Paul, followed by Seldom Seen and Jimmy, led the wey downstairs and out into God's fresh air, which, to the lad; had rever before seemed so pure and precious. “Ain't got any scads, I presume?” was Jimmy’s first question, when the trio had put several blocks between them and their late sleeping quarters. “I suppose you mean money,” returned Paul. “I had two dollars yesterday, but I fell among thieves on my way to Jericho— I mean Cheyenne—and they lifted, as you call it, all my loose change, together with various other of my belongings. No, I am sorry to say I am fiat broke.” “Oh, well, it ain't no consekence,” said Jimmy, grandiloquently. “Seldom Seen kin step inter ther First Nash’nal Bank an’ get a draft cashed, can’t yer, old man?” “Onforch'nitly ther ain't nobody here as kin identerfy me, ‘cept ther city marshal,” remarked Seldom, with a serious air, ‘an’ hates ter ask any favors from these yer petty offishals. Reckon we'll have ter worry along ontel my nex’ remittance at Sait Lake.” “You see, we'll have ter take along’ some grub,” explained Jimmy, “but, in course, if you're broke yer caf't do nothin’.” Me and Seldom "Il put in ther day rustlin’ an’ meb- be you'd better try yer luck, too, ‘cause we'll need three or four days’ rations, sure.” “Tell you what I’li do,” exclaimed Paul, a brilliant idea occurring to him, “I'll go out 'to Camp Carlin, where I have some army acquaintances, and I shouldn't wonder if they'll let me have enough provender for us all. What do you think of the scheme?” The two professionals both heartily ap- proved it, and after designating a rendez- vous for that evening, this curiously as- sorted trio separated, Paul starting out on a brisk walk for Camp Carlin, which lay three miles north of the city. Licut. Hatfield had often spoken to Paul of a classnate named Boyd, who was sta- tioned at Carlin, and whom he had painted as a royal good fellow. It was on the bare chance of finding him at the post that Paul based his hopes of success. Fortunately he was not doomed to disappointment, and Paul had only to introduce himself as a friend of Hatfleld’s to be cordially welcomed and entertained by the leutenant, who later loaded him down with provisions from his own mess when.he learned of its contem- plated usa. In the basket, which the Heutenant’s or- derly had filled with cold chicken, fresh bread and several pies, was also piaced a small flask of brandy, that Mr. Boyd sug- gested would be useful In case any of the party should fall ill in the journey. Thus liberally weighted down Paul set out at dusk for the city, heading direct for the rende@vous, where he found his queer ac- quaintances awaiting his arrival. As soon as it was fairly dask the three started for the railroad yards, accompanied by a friend of Jimmy's, who had been im- pressed to cover up their tracks after breaking into the car. Seldom Seen led the way straight toward some freight cars standing on a side track that were await- ing transportation to the west, and which he had previously located. With a beating heart Paul watched, while the three experts, with incredible swiftness, unscrewed the nuts that held fast the sliding door of the box car, and then, by means of a flat board user as a lever, pried the door open from the bottom until there was space enough to admjt the egress of a human being. This done, Seldom Seen quietly and dexterously wriggled into the car, motioning Paul to follow. Awkwardly enough, and with some trepidation, the lad shinned through the aperture, but not without severely bruising his shoulger blade ang knees in the attempt. Jimmy next passed"up the basket of pro- visions and two lard cans filled with water, which Seldom Seen carefully stowed away in a secure place. Then, as silently and as skillfully as his partner, Jimmy wormed himself through the opening and called softly that everything was all right. The next minute the board was withdrawn,’ the door sprang back into position, the nuts were carefully replaced by the friendly tramp, and Paul was left in inky darkness with two presumably tough citizens whom he had known just eighteen hou: No wonder that he was seized with a sudden nervous fit and an ardent desire to be safe outside breathing the free air of heaven again. Barely had the trio managed to fit into comfortable niches among the merchandise piled in the car when a noise outside pro- claimed the appearance of the yardmen for the purpose of making up a train. Back- ward and forward from one track to an- other the car was switched until the entire train, composed of fast freight, was ready for its journey to the west. Meantime ab- solute silence was maintained by the in. prisoned tramps, for the yardmen have quick ears, and discovery meant at least sixty days in the county jaii. By the time the train was ready to start Paul's uneasi- | ness had subsided to such an extent that he dozed off into unconseiousness, from which he did not emerge until the night had far advanced and the incessant rumbling of the wheels and continuous jerking of the cars told him he was fairly started on his journey toward the Pacific coast. The atmosphere in the car was heavy and almost stifling, a small grated aperture near the roof of the car at one end admit- ting homeopathic doses of fresh air, A violent headache that soon attacked Paul rendered sleep out of the question, dnd as he tossed restlessly on the hard boxes th-t formed his couch his thoughts were nof i the pleasantest. Visions of dreadful accl- dents floated before his perturbed brain, and all the newspaper reports that he had read of railroad disasters were painfully fresh in his memory. When at length he did sleep it was only to experience a series of dire mishaps in his troubled dreams, which were so realistic that he awoke from time to time with the perspiration standing in big beads on his forehead. He heard his companions conversing in low tones when he finally regained con- sciousness next morning, but his head was so hot and his throat so dry that his voice sounded like its own ghost when he asked softly for a drink of water. A pull at the tin pail helped to freshen him up a bit, and a dash of brandy that Jimmy insisted on his swallowing cured t sickness in his stomach caused by the motion of the car, Conversation all that day and the next was confined to whispers, the constant passing and repassing of the brakemen overhead rendering such a precaution necessary. All three ate and drank sparingly, most of the time being spent in sleeping. Two days and two nights of this was an experience that Paul mentally determined should never be repeated, but he wisely refrained from giving voice to his thoughts and out- wardly appeared perfectly reconciled to the situation. Several long halts had been made at th- tervals during the trip, but the two old- timers knew the route so well that they made no movement to get away, and it was not until the car was finally detached from the train and side tracked that Jimmy an- nounced their arrival at Ogden. It was the morning of the third day, and knowing that the car contained perishable merchandise, the trio hoped for speedy release from their prison. Nor were they disappointed. Soon after daylight voices were heard out- side, the seal of the car was broken, and | presently the door was rolled back, admit- ting a flood of delicious fresh air to the | three tramps, who, concealed behind some boxes, awalted an opportunity to jump and ron. “Now's our chance,” whispered Jimmy, after taking a hurried survey of the field. The yardmaster had disap teamster was busy with h together, now, jump!" In cramped limbs the three managed to make a fairly creditable leap, and away across the tracks they dashed, into the shadow of @ convenient lumber pile. almost before the astonished driver knew what had happened. ‘There was no pursuit, as they quickly dis- covered, to Paul's infinite relief, and after ten minutes’ rapid *walking all three stop- ped to take a breather, which was rendered necessary by their long inactivity. CHAPTER V. “Oh, but I'm glad to get out of that Prison,” Paul feelingly remarked as soon as he had recovered his wind. “Lets o' wuss places 'n that, sententiously. “Weil, I hope I'll never find them,” was the fervent rejoinder. “But, say, fellows, what are your plans?” “Me and Jimmy's goin’ ter let Ogden take keer of us fer er few days.” broke in Sel- dom Seen; “‘an' mebbe longer if the city marshal ain't too pertickler "bout our health. You said you was goin’ ier Salt Lake, didn't yer?” “Yes,” returned Paul in a decided tone, glad in his heart to know that he could part company with this queer pair without appearing ungrateful. “You see, I'm anx- jous to take a peep at the tabernacle and other of Brigham Young's curios, to say nothing of a plunge in the big salt lake. Better come along.” jot none,” growled Jimmy. “Had all we wanted o' Salt Lake last time we went up, eh, Seldom?" “I should smile," observed that worthy, scratching his grizzled chin. “Some o’ them Mormins is wuss 'n a reg’mint o’ depperty sher'ffs. Ain't go no regard for travelin’ toorists, they ain't.” Paul laughed merrily. “Oh, that's the way the wind blows, is it? Well, then, I won't urge you. Just put me on the right road and I'll pull out lively.” “Easy done, that,” drawled Seldom Seen, gathering his loose limbs together and slow- ly rising. “All ye hev ter do ts ter folly ther track off there ter the left an’ keep walkin’ till yer gits ter ther city.” “How far do you call it from Ogden ‘Bout thirty miles or so, I reckon. Paul groaned. “Nice prospect for a fel- said Jimmy, Do You Live Over Yonder? low with tender feet. Well, there's no help for it, I guess, so the sooner I start the better.” The lad put out his hand, and, oddly enough, wrung the grimy paw of Seldom Seen, then performed the same operation on Jimmy-Hit-the-Road-a-Welt, both worthies stoically enduring the novel experience with- out uttering a word. The two stood watching the youngster until his lithe figure had almost disappeared from view, cach with a queer expression on his countenance. It was Jimmy who spoke first. ‘Well, I'm blowed,” was his fervent if somewhat inelegant ejaculation. “He's a corker, Sel- dom, ain't he?” “A t'orrerbred, Jimmy, a reg’lar outen- outer. He don’t need no gardeen, he don’t.” “D'yer reckon he'll go clean ‘round, like he says he's goin’? asked Jimmy presently, when the pair had resumed their recumbent positions dh the grass. “Do I?" responded Seldom, as he lazily blinked at the morning sun. “In course I does, W’y, Jimmy, didn’t I say ther kid was er t’orrerbred?” And with this unan- swerable retort Seldom Seen pulled down the brim of his rusty hat, and in a few minutes was blending his snores with those of his precious partner. Meantime Paul had been stepping briskly g the track, his heart beating high in anticipation of fresh experiences to be gain- ed in the Mormon capital, his whole frame rejoicing in the contact with the balmy September air, which blew soft and warm, despite the proximity of October. After the confinement of the preceding days, with its fetid atmosphere, unpleasant quarters and awful jolting, this was like a taste of heaven to the youth, who at times cried aloud in sheer exaltation of spirit and talked such a string of nonsense that any one overhearing him might have had good reason to question his sanity. Kut it was only a natural ebullition fol- lowing the enforced whispers which for three days had escaped his lips, and if he shouted occasionally to relieve his feelings there was after all nothing extraordinary in such performance. As the sun rose higher in the heavens Paul's steps grew less elastic, and when he had tramped some ten or twelve miles the lad discovered he was not only very tired, but extremely hungry. “I'll tackle the next ranche house I spy along the track,” was his mental resolve, after fighting off the pains as long as he was able. “Can't get much worse than a refusal anyhow and I'll have to risk that.” Another quarter of an hour and the out- lines of a fairly thrifty-appearing farm house were seen, framed in a grove of tim- ber, about half a mile distant from the railroad. “Here goes,” muttered Paul, as he jump- ed the ditch that skirted the track. “A hungry stomach has no business to be squeamish, and a dinner of some sort I must have.” Between the railroad track and the house a small bunch of cattle was grazing, and as Paul neared the stock he spied a boy of about fifteen stretched on the prairie in- tently reading a book. So interested was the young herder in the story that he failed to notice Pau! approach and started up with a nervo' jump when the newcomer, halting within two feet, mildly ventured: “Say, do you live over yonder?” “Yep.” h, what time is it?” Bout "leven o'clock, I guess.” A Just then Paul caught a glimpse of the title of the book the lad held in his hand and the interest he felt was perhaps te- flected in his voice as he exclaimed, “Swiss Family Robinson, isn't it? How do you like the story “Bully! Far’s I've got. Have you read ite’ “Oh, yes, a number of times. They were wonderfully lucky to be wrecked on that island, weren't they?” The boy darted a keen glance into Paul's face as if he had detected a quizzical note. “Well,” he said, “pears to me they had an awfully smart father. He knew a heap, he did.” “I should say so,” assented Paul, and the ice being broken it did not take the young Chicagoan long to establish himself on a very friendly footing with the quick-witted herder who, after awhile, asked Paul to go over to the ranch house for dinner. This offer was accepted with so much alacrity that both were quick to see the absurdity of the situation and the hearty laugh that burst from each served to clinch their newly formed friendship. “Didn't think I'd refuse, did you?” ques- tioned Paul, as the two drove the cattle into an adjacent corral. “N You see I kinder guessed you was hungry when you asked me the time. I knew you paar 24 a reg'lar tramp by the way you talked.” Supposing Paul to be some boy acquaint- ance of Rob, which was the young herd- er’s name, the folks at the ranche house asked no questions and the tired traveler vouchsafed no remarks, particularly as din- ner was on the table when the lads en- tered. Ah! that was a meal indeed, and the way Paul disposed of the wholesome food was a caution. But as he rose from his chair the Hello, Seotty. thought of a twenty-mile tramp caused him to groan in spirit and he began to wish he had not indulged so freely. Something of this he expressed to his friend Rob as they sauntered back to the corral. “Must you go on to Salt Lake this after- noon then?” the latter anxiously inquired. “O, I haven't any pressing engagement,” returned Paul. “Why?” “"Cause if you wait till tomorrow I'll take you up in my buckboard. Mother wants to send some things to my aunt and you can just as well ride with me, if you care to.” “Care to? Why, that will suit me tip-top. But how about a bunk tonight?” “Oh, that’s all right. I have a big bed in the attic all to myself and you can sleep with me.” < “It is better to be born lucky than rich,” thought Paul, as he closed his eyes that night after indulging in a refreshing bath. “I guess the folks back home haven't for- gotten me, either.” The ride through the beautiful valley into town was a rich treat to Paul, whose en- tertaining conversation seemed to fascinate bis younger companion so that both were fairly sorry when their destination was reached. By this time Bob had learned Paul's plans, and his interest in the proposed trip Was so great that he could talk of little else. He insisted on taking Paul to his aunt's house, and as he was to remain over Sunday entreated his new friend to stay with him. “But your aunt might object to receiving a stranger,” remonstrated Paul, who had scme qualms about accepting this generous invitation. “Oh, no, she won't, urged the boy. “My friends are hers, too, She's joily good, she is." And so she was. The best in the house was laid before the lads, for Paul's gen- tlemanly manners proved a direct pass- pert to the go wonan’s heart, and dur- ing his stay in Salt Lake her generous hos- pltality never wavered. Paul could have found no better guide then Rob, for the young rancher had been born and brought up in the great Salt Lake valley, so that of the two days spent in town not a minute was wasted. All the famous places were visited, including the late Brigham Young’s mansion, his tomb, the tabernacle, the creat Mormon temple, not then completed—the co-operative stores and the memorable aqueducts where the water refused to rua up hill despite e spiritual assurances revealed to the prophet. The beautiful wide streets were duly ad- inired and a drive to Camp Douglas, one of Uncle Sam's most picturesque army posts, brought the lads to the fort in time to witness dress parade at sundown. Last, but not least, came a bath in the Great Salt Lake, an experience that each of the boys hugely enjoyed. When Monday afternoon arrived the feel- ing that he had put in his time to the best advantage sent Paul away in a very happy frame of mind, for, true to his original design, he was keen to continue his journey to the west. “How do you expect to cross the moun- tains, Paul?” inquired Rob, as they were jogging back to the ranch. “Haven't any definite plan yet. I didn’t know but Seldom and Jimmy might be abie to point out a way,” he replied, for Rob had heard all about these queer cronies. “I have a better scheme than that,” re- marked Rob, presently, brown study. ‘We used to have a hired man named Jack Turner, who went to braking on the U. P., and I bileeve he's running on an emigrant train now. If I could catch him going west I know he'd help you, for Jack's a rattling good fel- low.” Here was an unlooked-for lead that prom- ised to pan out big, and Paul was soon in a State of feverish anxiety to reach the Union Pacific lest Jack should go through. When Rob explained that Ogden was the end of the division and that Jack lived in town when he was off duty, Paul quieted down, especially as Rob promised to drive over to Ogden first thing in the morning. Paul’s star was still in the ascendant. When the lads reached Ogden next day Jack Turner was almost the first acquaint- ance Rob greeted. The brakeman chanced to be on his way to the yards to see if the through trains were on time, as he expected to pull out that afternoon. In response to Rob's earnest request he readily agreed to help Paul out by “fixing” the conductor, so that the latter would fail to see him when he went through the train, “Of course, you understand,” said Tur- ner, “that I can only get you passed on to the end of my division, but I'll see if a brakeman I know on the rellef crew won't keep you going. Just show up at 2 o'clock and I guess everything will be all right.” Both lads were profuse in their thanks, at which the good-natured brakeman laugh. ingly declared he'd get even by falling back on the ranch for a job if he happened to be laid off any time. Rob's sincere regard for Paul was made still more apparent when the time for part- ing arrived. From underneath the seat of the buckboard the boy fished out a market basket tied over with brown paper, which he thrust into Paul's hand: saying: “S'pose you didn’t figure that you'd need anything to eat on the road, did you?" Tt was an act of thoughtfulness for which Paul was whoily unprepared, and his voice was a bit husky as he stammered his thanks. “If all my experiences are to be as pleasant as this one has been,” he said, as soon as he regained his composure, “m: tramp will be nothing but a prolonged vicnic. Just wait til I get you in Chicago, emerging from a |. Rob, and then I'll try to repay some of your many kindnesses."" It was really quite hard to part from the brown-eyed, freckle-faced young Mormon who had proved so true a friend, and Paul found himself speculating as the train sped westward under what circumstances, if ever, they might meet again. But the prob- lem was too deep for instant solution, and before he could arrive at a satisfactory conclusion he was fast asleep. Jack Turner's “pull” with the new crew Was so strong that when he came in the car next afternoon to say good-bye he as- sured Paul everything would be ail right as | far as Sacramento, a piece of news that was, of course, most gratefully received. Meantime Paul had made some acquaint- ances among the passengers, so that a hot cup of coffee or tea was always forthcom- ing at meal times. The car in which Turner had found him @ seat was filled with a motley collection of emigrants, most of whom were on their way to southern California. Families predomi- nated, with the usual quota of children, from babes in arms to restless boys and siris from twelve to fourteen. The confinement in the crowded car had, naturally, tried the patience and temper of both parents and children, so that when Paul entered on the scene the pt t was anything but inspiriting. But with the blissful disregard of surroundings so pe- cullar to a healthy boy, Paul had curled himself up on the seat, after eating his first meal aboard the train, and despite the noise and confusion on all sides, he found no difficulty in wooing the drowsy god. Next day he had plenty of opportunity to study his fellow travelers at leisure, and it was not long before his cheerful good nature began to assert itself. The heart of a little woman, whose eldest of three tots was scarcely seven, he glad- dened by entici the youngsters into his seat, where he amused them for upward of an hour by story-telling and propounding mysterious conundrums, which gave the tired mother, traveling ‘to rejoin her hus- band, a chance to rest for the first time since she had boarded the train. A fretful child that had cried half the morning he quieted by walking up and down the aisle with the baby perched on his shoulder, until it crowed with delight. At dusk of the second day the children began to regard Paul as their especial friend, and after their early supper had been discus%d he had all the little Deople in the car crowded into his seat, on knees, at his back—anywhere within. ear- shot—for Paul could tell the most wonder- ful fairy stories in a way that held. the youngsters spellbound, and their demands for “just one more, please,” were met until the story teller was too hoarse to continue, ‘Thus it was that Paul shortly found self a most popular individual, not only with the children, but with the big folks too, for since his advent a different sort: of atmosphere seemed to pervade the car, -_ the elders were not slow to perceive the cause. Hence it was not strange that with the approach of meal time three or four in- vitations were always open to Paul's choice. , At Sacramento many of the emigrants left the train to continue their journey southward, and as Paul met a peremptory challenge for “ticket” from the new con- ductor, he knew his rope was run, and that he could not to get to San Francisco aboard that car. Sadly, but philosophically withal, he said good-bye to his big and | friends, and escorted by a brakeman, was, piloted through the forward door anf .op, dered to make himself scarce. oe Not, however, without having formuleted certain definite plans. One of the passen- gers had advised him to steal aboard one of the river steamers plying between Sacra- mento and San Francisco and stow away among the cargo. Tiaving at some previous time sucessfully essayed this trick himself, he further explained how it might safely be accomplished, which so appealed to Paui’s imagination that he determined to make the attempt. With a sandwich resting snugly at the bottom of each outside pocket of his coat the lad made his way across the gridironed tracks to the wharf, where he remained un- til dusk awaiting an opportunity to elude the cerberus at the gate. r% As Homer was said to sometimes nod, so also did the vigilance of the guard re]: and at the first good chance Paul inside the gate, bounded lightly across gangway of a packet moored to the @6ekK; and in a trice had concealed ae a pile of freight on the lower deck, Two months before his heart would have beaten like a trip-hammer had he attempt- ed am Sid so daring as — greene probably have remajned a stat con- stant terror for fear of discovery. But now he me shrugged his shoul- ders ys he lay outstretched across the of Lap | with sae eae gL owners for surrept! u vessel he gazed steadily at the bright moon overhead and actually di asleep be- fore the boat left the w! to steam down the Sacramento river. As a tramp Paul was making progress: (To be continued.) eee EVERY INCH A DUK®S. The Amateur Traveler Meets a Man of Noble Bearing. From the New York Tribune. ‘The amatur thaveler, as bis friends call him, was in a meditative frame of mind, and every one knew that over the second cup of black coffee wHich followed his din- ner he was thinking of sdme foreign Jand By that mysterious principle of thougtit- transference which everybody knows ndtit- ing about, some one asked: “Did you ¢ duke at home?” “I was just thinking about one duke I saw. I had driven out {fom Palermo to the races at La Favorita, where, in an amphitheater of great moun- tains, the Sicilian nobility had gathered to see some bad racing. It was one of the most beautiful spots on earth. The great mountains hemmed about a level plain, and it seemed too grand for horse racing. But, then, it was not real racing, you know, only a weak imitation, which really did not detract from the sublimity of the place, but gave people an excuse for being there. We were driving back after the races through the Corso, where up and down the Sicilian great men passed one another, when, swinging up the broad way, I 1 a carriage, the panels of which with armorial bearings. It was of an angieut and most respectable make and was drawn by four white horses, on two of which were postilions in liveries of blue and silver. On the box, with folded arms, sat two footmen in the same livery, and.on the footboard behind were two more, all four with cocked hats and white, curling wigs. On the. blue velvet cushions of the carriage reclined an old man, with a snow-white tmpe: and mustache. He was heavy of face and and from beneath drooping eyelids i less eyes looked out as if upon a worl in which he had seen nothing except satie- ty. His forehead was high, his nose aquil- ine and his whole air one of aristocratic repose. “It was a strong face and one tobe remembered. I can see it now rising through the mists of memory above these of kings and princes. As the carriage swept by and was lost in the throng of the ed Corso I asked my driver, that? ‘The Duke de la —, it was an ancient nami Italy, and I speculated, down, upon what that man might have accomplished had he not been born a duke. “That night at the Hotel de France I .re- marked that I had seen the duke that day in the Corso, for his strong face was in my mind. The company, two or three of the old Sicilians and an man, long resi- dent, laughed, and one said: ‘Oh, yes; as clever a man as you would want to meet except for his dukedom.” r ““How is that?" “Why, he was a poor peasant , Who worked like fits, and finally made i by inventing a new kind of chewing gum. He put his money in railroad contracts and made more. Then he bought the de la — estate, and in those days the title went with the estate, so he is the duke, as you see him. The last of the de la ——s have jong since slept in their family sepuicher, mod = —— and ability I will match this chewing gum man against any one of them that ever lived.’ ” -e<—___ ‘When a Woman Will. From Puck. Mrs. Brown—“I see that the ‘Daughters of the Revolution’ refused to admit Mrs. Leightly to membership.” Mrs. Jones—“Yes; Wut she intends to or- ganize a rival society. If necessary to make it @ success, she'll start another revolu- A Bashful Man’ Impressions of a Fashiopable Restaurant. From Life. RAILROADS. RICHMOND AND DANVILLE R. SAMUEL SPENCER, RUBEN ‘May 13, Ise All trains arrive apd leave at Penusylvania Pas- senger Station, Washington, D. C. 5:00 a.m. daily—Local for Danville an’ inter mediate stations, and connects at Lynchburg with Norfulk and ‘Western railroad westward, daily, and at Manassas for Strasburg, daily, excepi Sum 11:01 am. THE GREAT SOUTHERN Fast MAIL. —Dail: rates Pullman Buffet New York and Washington via € lumbla to Sevannah and Jacksonville, a Charlotte with Sh for Augusta, alto carried coy Pullman Buffet Sleeper New York to At- Janta, where direct connection is made for Birm- ingham, Montgomery and New Orleans. pm.—Daily for Charlottesville and Inter end through train for Frost and sburg, daily, except Sundar ym. WASHINGTON AND SOUTHWEST: ‘ IRULED LIMITED. mposed of Pull- Bian Vestibiied Sleepers and Diving Cars, runs via mrlotte am Columbia to usta, Savannah, Jacksonville and Tampa, carrying Pullman. $ Xew York to “Tampa.” Also optrates Sleeper New York to New Ori Honteomerr, New York to A istington to Me Washington to Augnme i ore” to Monty oN W a ns via Atlanta and file via Salisbury, Birminzham, 9 via Columbia. Dining car teomerr. SUINGTON AXD ONIO DIVI- ugton at 9:10 a.m., daily, 4:39 pt Sunday, and 6:33 p.m. Sundays Hill aud 4:32 p.m., daily, except aud 6:33 p.m. daily, for rrive Washington 8:30 2.m., m, @&c mday, es = the south arrive ington 7:13 a.m.. 2:20 p.m gas Division 4:48 ain.) daily, tonne uy 8:48 a.m. dally. trom Charloti« Tickets, Sleeping Car reservations and then furnished at offices, 511 and 1300 Peonsylva- nia avenue, apd at Passenger Staticn, Penosylva- nia Railroad.” Wastiucton, ‘D.C W. HL GREEN, Gen. 5 informa- Ma . A. TURK, Gen. Pass. Act. Gen. Agt. Pass. Dept. map PENNSYLVANIA RAILROAD. STATION CORNER OF OTH ANDO STREETS, Effect 14, 1804. PENNSVLN ASIA LIMITED. —Patiman Slee Dining, Smok- Buffet 1105 GSE Fast Ee roe Ps Cara to Pittsbu % mou Pate os P.M. CHICAGO AND ST. LOUIS EXPRESS. allman Buffet Parlor Car to Harrisburg. Sicey- $RE and Dining Gers, Harristtarg to St. Louisa jnnati w 0, PM ‘Chicago. H & *e,3FW YORK axp THR “CONGRESSIONAL LIMITED, "ant for Fahad ee, 4 $:00, 8:40 Dining Gon, . rs 0 fe ¢ i # i jase t REE fiw ‘se 23 $53) AM, and 4:36 P.M. 11:50 A.M.. and 4:20 ‘Sunda, AM. Schedule tn effect May 13, 1804. ‘Trains leave daily from Us Station (B. ané P.), Oth and B sts. p.m; Lexington. 9:40 p.m.; Indianapolis, 11:20 em. ced st. Louis, 1:65 =. poli 6:00,p.m.; Louisville, B Chicago, 73 connects in Union Gepot 1037 A.M. DAILY Por ola Sorfolk. Oniy rail tne. 2:25 P.M. DATLY- Express for Gortonsvi! Charlottesville, Waynesboro’, Staunton and princi pal Virginia points; for “Pullman locations fices, 513 and 1421 mye and tickets at company's of Pennsylvania avenve. ee. W. PULLER, Chicago Northws empress trains. 11:80 a.m. Cincinnati, St. Louis and lis, Vesti- duled Limited, “°3:50 p.m., express 12:40, night “For Pittsbafg and Cleveland, express @aily 11:80 @.m. and 8:40 p.m. days, x3-35, 5:00, €:35, R805; 8-30, x9:80 10-00, | ; Junction and way points, *10:00 press trains stopping at prin- 14:30, EEN Pen EW YORK AND PRm- pm. Ex A stations only. ‘AL, BLUE LINE Inder ‘New York, datty S85" S80 (10500 fe POTOMAC RIVER BOATS. ee CLYDE LINE STEAMER DIRECT TO PHILADEL- ecbington every MMosday, 5 pra Low Fatce 6 x ° m. Low rates ulnts north and cast) FA” HEED & OO. its, wharf foot of N et. s.w. _myis-tf” NEW PALACE STLAMER HARRY RANDALL Leaves River View th “street, | Sunday ‘Tuesday ‘Thursday m. Landing al wharves as far down as Maddox creek, iteturoing Mondays, Wedn-sdays and Fridays, 3 pm. Pas: bor accommodat tious Mrst-clase. it received Telephone 1766. hour of sailing. 7. REED 8. RANDALL, oF & Man ra & 00., “ Washington, Be", WASHINGTON STEAMBOAT ©0., “LIMITED.” From 7th st. ferry ef. Steamer Wakefield on MONDAYS, " WEDNES. DAYS and SATURDAYS at 7 a.m,,’ for Nomint creck, Leonardtown and St. Clement's bay termediate landings. Iieturuing THURSDAYS and SUNDA}S. A. ee Rade es NORFOLK AND WASHINGTO! ‘E BETWEEN WASIINGTOX, D. C, DAILY LINE PE Gl fe1o-tt PRESS MONROE and ‘ NORFOLK, Wa, The new und powerful Iron Palace Steamers, STON AND NORFOLK-SOUTH BOUND, WASHING Linington ally at 7 p.m. from foot of ef, ere Fortress Monroe at 6:30 Arrive at Norfolk at 7:30 a.m. for all NORTH BOUND. Leave Norfolk daily at 6:10 p.m. Leave Monroe at 7:10 p.in. Arrive at Washington at 6:30 a.m. next day. Tickets at 513, 619, 2951 and 1421 Pena. hae for th new Tine. er TNO. CALLAHAN, apls-t? Gen. Sunt MANICURE SMITH, LATE OF LONDON, MAY NOW BF Mound in the Maulcare Patlor of ibe Palais Woyak, G@ and 11th ow a tn