Having come to this determination, he jumped down from the car, and walking over to the bulletin board, ran his finger down the time-table.
[197]
“Nine o’clock—train for La Punta. Well, that’s gone. Hello! Here we are—eleven P. M. express for the City of Mexico. I wonder what that asterisk3 means. Oh, yes, Pullmans only. That would be infinitely4 more pleasant than the brake-beams of a freight,” he mused5, “and for me it would be equally cheap.”
Stephen was a novice6 at the art of “beating it,” but he possessed7 two very valuable assets, a keen observation and a vivid imagination. Having thus resolved to travel in state, he returned to his flat car, and set about planning ways and means. A few minutes of solemn thought gave him his first conclusion: that at this time of year the southbound trains would not be running full.
A few more puffs10 upon his pipe gave him the next link in his plan. “Whether empty, or full, the Pullman company has all the berths down.”
Thought number three: “At night they make long runs, without stopping. Therefore,” thought Stephen, “once on board, and safely tucked in an upper berth9, I can travel until[198] morning without being discovered and thrown off the train.”
“Now comes the second part of my problem: how to get on the train and into my berth without being discovered.” He shut his eyes, and visualized12 a train standing13 at the station. “Where would the porters stand?” he asked himself.
He thought hard, and remembered that at night the porters generally stand at opposite ends of their cars, so that every alternate set of steps is unguarded.
“Now,” he reflected, “if the berths are down, the curtains will be drawn14, therefore there will be little light from the car windows, to bring me into prominence15, and the passengers will probably be asleep. All will go well, if the vestibule doors are not locked. But generally on hot nights they are unlocked. Anyhow, I must risk it.”
As he mused over his plan giving it the final touches, the express for the City of Mexico thundered into the station.
With a grating of brakes, and a squish of steam, the heavy train sobbed16 itself to a stop, the engine dropping from the fire-box a stream[199] of glowing coals between the gleaming steel rails, and blowing forth17 steam from the exhaust.
“Here’s my train,” thought Loring. “It looks very comfortable.”
He slipped his pipe into his pocket, and stepping back into a shadowy corner, awaited his opportunity.
From the platform arose an irregular murmur18 of voices, such as always attends the arrival of a train at night. That murmur which, to the passengers lying half awake, sounds so far away, and unreal! He heard the bang and thump19 of trunks being thrown out of the baggage car. A party of tourists, weighted down with hand-luggage, hurried by him. Even as he thought, the white-jacketed porters stood with their little steps alternately at the right and left ends of their respective cars, so that in the long train there were three unguarded platforms.
A man was rapidly testing and oiling the car wheels. His torch flared20 yellow-red against the greasy21 brown of the trucks, and made queer shadows dance on the red varnished22 surface of the cars.
Stephen tried to make out the name of the car nearest to him. The first four gilt23 letters[200] showed clearly in the torchlight: “ELDO”—The man with the torch moved nearer. “ELDORADO,” spelled Stephen. “Perhaps the name is a delicate hint to me from Fate.”
The inspector24 passed on up the train, hitting ringing blows on the wheels with his short, heavy mallet25. He tested the last car, then stepped back from the train, swinging his torch around his head as a signal to the engineer.
“It must be now or never,” thought Loring. But which platform to try! At that instant, from the car opposite him, came a great puff11 of white steam, for a moment almost obscuring the steps from view.
Loring darted26 forward, and jumped upon the train platform. Anxiously he thrust his shoulder against the vestibule door. It was unlocked. As he gained the vestibule, the car couplings tightened27 with a jerk, and the train clumsily started. He took a hasty glance down the interior of the car. At the opposite end the porter was closing the vestibule door. The aisle28 was clear.
Stephen stepped quickly into the car, pulled back the curtain of the nearest section, and stepping on the lower berth, caught hold of[201] the curtain bar, and with one pull swung himself up. In the process, he inadvertently stepped on the fat man in the lower berth. Stephen knew that he was fat, because he felt that way. The man swore sleepily, and twitched29 the curtain back into place.
“I think that I won’t put my boots out to be cleaned to-night,” said Loring to himself. “It would be tactless.” Then he pulled the blankets up over him, rolled over close to the far side of the berth, and fell asleep, lulled30 by the hum of the car wheels, pounding southward fifty miles an hour.
Tired out by his vigil of the night before, Stephen slept until it was late. He awoke with a start to find that it was broad daylight. Sleepily he tried to think where he was. His eye fell on the dome31 of polished mahogany above him, upon the swaying green curtain, and the swinging bellrope. Then he recalled the situation. For a few moments he lay back, blissfully comfortable. His weary muscles were grateful for the rest. Then he roused himself, and peered cautiously out from between the curtains. While he was looking up and down the dusty stretch of carpet in the aisle, the colored porter[202] rapped hard on the woodwork of the lower berth, and proceeded to awake the occupant.
“Last call for breakfast, number twelve, last call; half-past nine, sir, half-past nine.”
“I am sure that he would think that I was a ghost,” he laughed to himself.
“I think I also had better arise,” reflected Loring. He watched the porter until the latter was at the far end of the car, then dropping his feet over the edge of the berth he slid out onto the swaying floor, almost into the arms of the amazed Pullman conductor, who at that instant had entered the car.
“Where did you get on?” gasped34 the brass-buttoned official. “I didn’t know that there was an ‘upper’ taken in this car.”
“At Los Andes,” answered Stephen, “I was rather tired, so I thought I would not bother you at the time.”
The conductor looked hard at Stephen, and took in at a glance his ragged35 clothes, dirty shoes, and flannel36 shirt; then he grinned.
[203]
“That was mighty37 considerate of you, stranger; now let’s have your ticket. We have almost reached our next stop.”
Stephen pretended to feel in his pockets, though he well knew that it was useless. The other people in the train were beginning to stare.
“To be put off a train would be far pleasanter in imagination than in reality,” flashed across Stephen’s mind.
“Hurry up, now,” repeated the conductor. “Where is your ticket?”
“Come on, now, no nonsense! fork up!” insisted the conductor.
“I would gladly, if I had any money,” rejoined Stephen, then with seeming irrelevancy39, he added: “How far is it from here to the ‘City’?”
“It is about seven hundred miles,” answered the conductor, “but I am sure you will find it a delightful40 walk.”
“Last call for breakfast in the dining-car. Last call,” again echoed through the car.
“Better hurry, sir,” said the porter, not realizing the situation, as he passed Stephen.
[204]
“Thank you,” said Loring, with a grim smile. “But I think I will refrain from eating this morning.”
A rather heavy faced man, who was sitting near by, laughed audibly. Stephen became the center of interest for the passengers. For them, the little scene was a perfect bonanza41, serving to break the monotony of the trip. Loring was conscious of the stare of many eyes, about as effectually concealed42 behind books and magazines as is an ostrich43 with its head in the sand.
“Come out into the vestibule with me!” said the conductor, rather gruffly. Stephen followed him in silence. When they were on the platform, the conductor turned and looked at him squarely. Loring noticed that there could be kind lines about the close-set jaw44.
“See here,” began the former, “you don’t look to me like a man who is often working this sort of game. I guess you must be sort of up against it, ain’t you?”
Stephen bowed his head slowly, in non-committal agreement.
“Now I don’t like to see a man down and out,” went on the conductor, “unless he is the[205] kind that deserves to be, and you ain’t. Besides, you’re from the States like I am, and so, though I’d lose my job if it were found out, the company is going to set you up to this ride free.”
“When did you have anything to eat last?” asked the conductor suddenly.
“Not since yesterday morning,” answered Stephen.
“Well, you go right into that car” (he pointed46 forward with his thumb) “and eat. I’ll make it all right with the dining-car people.”
“That is too much,” said Loring. “I can’t”—
The conductor cut him short. “Some time when you have the money, you can pay me back. If you don’t ever have it, don’t worry. No, you mustn’t thank me any more. It is just that you are an American, and I don’t like to see a fellow from the States up against it in this Godforsaken land.”
As Loring walked through the train, his blood tingled47 with the pride of race and citizenship48, tingled with the glow that comes or should come[206] to every man, when he realizes the strength of the great brotherhood49 to which he belongs: realizes that when things are stripped to their elemental facts, and the veneer50 of international courtesy and friendliness51 removed, he is standing shoulder to shoulder with his countrymen against the world.
When at last the train drew into the “City,” Stephen said a warm good-bye to his benefactor52, then followed the line of passengers out into the street. With no definite purpose in mind, he wandered up and down the city, staring idly into the shop windows. By accident, he found himself in a great plaza53. He was pleased with the gaiety.
“If it were not for economic distress54, I should be very well off,” he thought. “I must get work somewhere, and immediately.”
He walked up one of the side streets, looking at all the signs, hoping that one might give him a clew. For a long time he saw nothing helpful, and he was on the brink55 of discouragement, when his eye was attracted by a large gilt umbrella on the next corner, hung out over the street. Beneath it was a Spanish sign to the effect that umbrellas could be bought, sold, or[207] repaired within. In the window was a large placard: “We speak English.”
“If I were skilful56 with my hands,” thought Loring, “I might get a job repairing here; but I am not skilful with my hands.”
He stood reflecting, his hands deep in his pockets. An idea soon came to him, for he had always been more resourceful than successful.
He walked boldly into the shop, and approached the proprietor57. The man began to assume the smile with which he welcomed prospective58 buyers, noticed Loring’s clothes, and checking the smile, waited in silence for him to speak. Stephen, unabashed, smiled in a most friendly fashion, and a few words of comment upon the admirable situation of the shop, and the excellence59 of the stock, quite won the owner’s confidence. After a few moments of conversation, in a guile-free manner he asked: “And do you do much repairing here?”
“No,” the proprietor admitted, “very little. Most of my business is to buy and sell.”
“It seems strange that in a big city such as this there should be no demand for repairs?”
[208]
Stephen made the statement a question by the rising inflection. He spoke60 with the hesitating assurance which had made so many people trust him.
The proprietor shook his head in answer: “No, there is no demand.”
“Is it not that people do not think, perhaps, do not know of your place?”
“Very likely you are right,” answered the storekeeper. He was pleased by the stranger’s interest in his business.
Then Loring played his high card.
“Suppose that you had an active English-speaking agent, who would go to the offices and homes of the American and English colony, and collect umbrellas to be repaired, then would not your business flourish?”
The shop owner grasped the plan, but not with both hands.
“Well,” continued Stephen, “I am such a man, very efficient (Heaven help me!) and reliable (It won’t!). For a commission, no pay in advance, but for a commission of say ten[209] cents for each umbrella, I will collect for you.” The umbrella man consented half reluctantly. The matter was soon arranged, and Loring hastened forth upon his rounds.
By six o’clock, after many strange experiences, and rebuffs, he had managed to collect ten umbrellas. Gaudy62 red, somber63 black, two green ones, and one white. All were in advanced stages of decrepitude64. He had pleaded with the owners to let them be restored, as if each umbrella had an “inalienable right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”
With his odd collection bundled under his arms, Loring started on his return to the store. Greatly pleased with the success of his scheme, he strolled along talking to himself, and not noticing where he was going.
Walking in the opposite direction to Loring on the same sidewalk was another man. His quick, decisive steps and the slightly deprecating glance which he cast at any thing of beauty in the windows of the shops that he passed proclaimed him an American. The expression on his face varied65 from amusement to scorn as he glanced at things that were different from those in the States. There was in his whole[210] manner that good-humored toleration of the best achievements of another nation that marks the travelling American. The sidewalk was narrow, and the heavy shoulders of this man overshadowed half the distance across. He was covering a good yard at a stride, which was all the more remarkable66 as the most of his height was above the waist. Had he been a girl, his hair would have been called auburn where it showed beneath his hat. Being a man, it may be truthfully said that it matched the bricks of the building he was passing. His eyes, which were as round as the portholes of a ship, betokened67 a degree of honesty and kindness which matched well with the general effect of strength and homeliness68 given by his whole appearance. The energy of all his motions was a sharp contrast to Loring’s lazy stroll. At the second that he reached Loring, his eyes were uplifted in wondering curiosity at the bright colors of the roof tiles. His preoccupation, combined with Loring’s absorption, made a collision inevitable69. And the inevitable, as usual, took place.
“I beg your pard—” began Stephen, raising his eyes.
[211]
“Stephen Loring!” exclaimed the stranger. “Where in the devil did you come from?”
“Baird Radlett!” called Stephen, as if stupefied.
They shook hands warmly. Radlett was an old friend of Stephen’s, one who had been an intimate in the days before Loring’s misfortunes.
“Come on, Steve, we’ll go and get a drink,” said Radlett.
Loring shook his head. “Not for me, thanks,” he answered.
“Phew!” whistled Radlett. “Since when?” he involuntarily exclaimed. Then for the first time he took notice of the strange load which Loring was carrying.
“What on earth, Steve?” he asked, pointing to the umbrellas.
In the old days Loring had been well off, Radlett rich, and it hurt Stephen to explain his abject70 poverty. He hesitated a moment, then unblushingly replied:
“Why you see, Baird, I am on a sort of house-party here, and the weather being fine, I thought that I would take all the girls’ umbrellas around to be fixed71.”
Radlett stared in amazement72, then both broke[212] into shouts of laughter, as the ridiculousness of the excuse struck them simultaneously73.
“See here, Steve, I know that you are in hard luck. Come down to my hotel with me, and we will talk things over,” said Radlett. Putting his arm affectionately through Loring’s, he dragged him, protesting, along with him. As they walked, Stephen explained the matter of the umbrellas, while Radlett listened amused, but a bit saddened.
On their way, they came to the gilt sign of the umbrellas.
“I must leave these here,” said Loring.
Radlett tactfully waited outside, while Stephen entered and deposited the results of his collection. The proprietor, who, when released from Stephen’s winning conversation, had begun to feel rather worried, was surprised and delighted at the success of the mission. He opened the cash drawer, and handed to Stephen a silver dollar. Stephen wrote down the addresses of the umbrella owners, then with his new earned dollar clinking lovingly against the keys in his pocket, he rejoined Radlett.
[213]
They walked briskly to the hotel where Radlett was staying, and stepping into the smoking room, were soon comfortably ensconced in two big leather armchairs, placed in an out-of-the-way corner of the room.
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1
disconsolately
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| adv.悲伤地，愁闷地；哭丧着脸 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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asterisk
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| n.星号，星标 | |
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infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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berths
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| n.（船、列车等的）卧铺( berth的名词复数 )；（船舶的）停泊位或锚位；差事；船台vt.v.停泊( berth的第三人称单数 )；占铺位 | |
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berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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11
puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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12
visualized
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| 直观的，直视的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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varnished
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| 浸渍过的，涂漆的 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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mallet
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| n.槌棒 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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curbed
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| v.限制，克制，抑制( curb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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irrelevancy
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| n.不恰当，离题，不相干的事物 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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bonanza
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| n.富矿带，幸运，带来好运的事 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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ostrich
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| n.鸵鸟 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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45
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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47
tingled
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
citizenship
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| n.市民权，公民权，国民的义务(身份) | |
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49
brotherhood
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| n.兄弟般的关系，手中情谊 | |
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50
veneer
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| n.(墙上的)饰面，虚饰 | |
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51
friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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52
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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53
plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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54
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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55
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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56
skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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57
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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58
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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59
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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60
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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61
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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62
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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decrepitude
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| n.衰老；破旧 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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betokened
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| v.预示，表示( betoken的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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homeliness
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| n.简朴，朴实；相貌平平 | |
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inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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abject
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| adj.极可怜的，卑屈的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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peddling
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| 忙于琐事的，无关紧要的 | |
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