Three People | Page 8

but
still seats were comparatively plenty and no one disturbed the fur cloak.
In the course of time Tode's sleep grew less sound; he twisted around
as much as his limits would allow, and punched an imaginary
bed-fellow with his elbow, muttering meanwhile:
"Keep still now. Which of you is joggling?"
The joggling continued, and at last the boy twisted and punched
himself awake and into a sitting posture, and finally the look of
unmixed astonishment with which he took in his surroundings, gave
way to one of unmistakable fun.
"Here's a go!" he at last informed himself. "I've come a journey and no
mistake; made a night of it sure as I live. Lucky I waked up first of this
crowd. If somebody had sat down on Wolfie now by mistake, there
might have been trouble. Guess I'll look about me."
He shook himself free from the cloak and sauntered out on the platform.
The gray dawn was just glimmering over the frozen earth, the world
looked snowy and icy and desolate. On swept the train, and not a
familiar object met his eye. Did Tode feel dreary and homesick, lost in
the whizzing strangeness, sorry he had come? Did he want to shrink
away from sight and sound? Did he feel that he would give anything in

the world to be landed at that moment somewhere near Broadway in
Albany? Not a bit of it! Nothing of the sort entered his brain. He feel
homesick! Why his home was anywhere and nowhere. Since that day,
years ago, when his mother died, he had had less of a home than even
before. Sometimes he slept on the cellar floor with his father, but
oftener in the street, in a stable, or curled in a barrel when he had the
good fortune to find one--anywhere; but never in all his life had he
spent such a comfortable night as this last had been. But his father? Oh
dear, you don't know what fathers can become to their children, if you
think he missed him. Please remember his last act had been to kick his
son out of a cellar into the snow; but Tode bore him no ill-will for this
or any other attention. Oh no, nor good-will either. Why, his father was
simply less than nothing to him. So this morning, without an idea as to
what he was going to do next, he stood and watched himself being
whirled into New York, with no feeling save one of extreme
satisfaction at the success of his last night's plan, and alert only to keep
out of the reach of the conductor. The car door slammed behind him,
and he turned quickly, as two gentlemen came out. One of them eyed
him closely, and finally addressed him.
"Who are you with, my lad?"
Tode chuckled inwardly at this question, but added promptly enough,
"A man in there," nodding his head toward the car which contained Mr.
Hastings.
"Humph! the man must be crazy to let his servant travel in such a suit
as that in this bitter weather."
This remark was addressed to his companion as the two passed into the
next car. Tode chuckled outright this time; he had a new idea.
"That's the talk," he informed himself. "I'm his servant; just it
prezackly--much obliged. I hadn't thought of that arrangement before,
but I like the plan first rate. Maybe Wolfie and I will get another night
or so together by the means."

So now he had two items of business on hand, dodging the conductor
and keeping an eye on his traveling companion. The first he managed
to accomplish by dint of always passing out at one end of the car just as
that official was entering at the other, aided in his scheme by the fact
that it was not yet light, and also that they were fairly in the city. But
the last was an extremely difficult matter. A dozen times, as he
breathlessly pushed and elbowed his way through the hurrying crowd,
did he think that he had hopelessly lost sight of his guide, and as often
did he catch another glimpse of him and push on. At last a car, not too
full for Mr. Hastings to crowd himself into, rewarded his signal, and
Tode plunged after him as far as the platform. There he halted. There
were many passengers and much fare to collect, so our young scamp
had enjoyed quite a ride before his turn came.
"Fare," said the conductor at last, briefly and sharply, right at his
elbow.
"Yes, sir," answered Tode as promptly. "Only it's pretty cold and
windy."
"Pay your fare," shouted the conductor.
"Oh bless me--yes, to be sure."
And Tode fumbled in both pockets, drawing out bits of strings