almost instantaneous. Not altogether losing my senses, I suggested to Red that we should go to some hotel, have breakfast, and then go to bed for an hour or two, say till dinner time, which would refresh us. It was now eight o’clock in the morning, and Red had unfortunately got into conversation with a gentleman who knew something of Australia. “Yes,” he said, gravely, after listening to my proposal—“you are young, and you certainly look drunk and sleepy, and had better follow your own advice. The hotel is next door but one to this, and you will find me here when you return.” Not liking to take him by the shoulder, and to gently try to force him away from this stranger in whose conversation he evidently seemed to take a great delight, not to mention doing such an action before the landlord’s face, I left him, made arrangements at the hotel for two, and then went to bed. Having had a good sleep, and a substantial meal, and feeling thoroughly refreshed, I now returned to Red, whom I found in the centre of half a dozen loafers, besides the gentleman to whom I have already referred. On my appearance, he staggered to his feet and came to meet me, and then, taking me on one side, began in this way: “You have just come in the nick of time, for the glasses, as you see, are empty. Pay for all drinks called for, and I will make it all right with you in the morning.” “What is the matter?” I asked. “What have you done with over eighty dollars?” Winking artfully, and with a smile meant to be cunning, he said—“I have hidden my money, as I usually do in these cases. Most likely it is in the lining of my coat; but, wherever it is, you may depend on it as being quite safe.” If he had had the assistance of a score of the most inveterate drunkards, I know he could not in this short time have squandered between eighty and ninety dollars. Red had earned ninety-five dollars and a half, and, up to the time of my leaving him, had spent but very little. I came to the conclusion that he had been robbed, and that this befell him in all his sprees. After calling for a round of drinks, I left the house, knowing that Red would soon follow, which he did, and at once. I persuaded him to bed, and the next morning saw the same peculiarities as before—his going into corners, up side streets, to feel the lining of his clothes. He was not satisfied at seeing no tear in the lining of his cap, but must hold it in his hand and feel every inch of it. “Somewhere on my person,” he reiterated, “I have secreted three twenty dollar bills. I have a distinct recollection of doing so, but for the life of me I cannot remember what part.” “You have been robbed,” I answered, with a little disgust. Not willing to leave him in his present circumstances, and only too sorry that I had not done so when he was almost as well off as myself, I shared my dollars with him, saying in an offended manner—“The sooner we squander this stuff the better it will please us.” We spent it in one week in Chicago, and were again without a cent. “Again,” I said with some exaggeration, “winter is here, and we are in the same position as at the end of last summer. What now?” “We are without money,” said Red, “but there is still nothing to prevent us from our first intention of visiting England. We will beat our way to Baltimore without delay. I am known in that port by the cattle foremen and owners, and we are almost sure of a ship as soon as we arrive.” After all, I thought, eager for a new experience, one trip will not come amiss.
X
The Cattleman’s Office
We found the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad easy to beat, and were at the end of our journey in a very few days. When we entered the cattleman’s office, from which place owners and foremen were supplied with men, it was evident to me that Red was well known in this place, hearing him make enquiries of Washington Shorty, New York Fatty, Philadelphia Slim, and others. At this place I made the acquaintance of Oklahoma Sam, an extremely quiet man, very much respected in that he had a cold blooded fashion of whittling wood and paring his nails with a steel blade nearly a foot long. Another queer character was Baldy, of whom Australian Red related this anecdote. When stranded in Liverpool and hungry, he once took up a position in front of a confectioner’s shop, and, being an extremely lazy man, placed his shoulder against the lamppost, and settled himself for a long reverie. He might have been there an hour or more, when the baker came out and complained of Baldy’s person, being ragged and dirty, as the reason why people hurried past his establishment; telling Baldy straight that his presence was detrimental to the trade of any shop that catered to the inner man. Baldy, too lazy to speak, much less show any signs of anger, took a firmer bearing on the post and settled to a more prolonged reverie. Two or three hours elapsed when the baker, who had come several times to stare at him through the window, rushed out and shouted with much irritation—“For Heaven’s sake, go: here, take this sixpence, and let me see the last of you.” Baldy, who had not wished the baker good morning, wished him good afternoon, and strolled quietly away, with the price of a good meal in his hand. Nobody, who thoroughly understood Baldy’s disposition, would wonder at this; for this success, after all, was only the result of laziness,
