in, and on it he meant to travel; but how to manage it was
another question. It was broad daylight; sleep and Wolfie couldn't serve
him now. He stuffed his hands into his pocket, and studied ways and
means; eyes bent on the ground, and the ground helped him, rather a bit
of pasteboard did. He picked it up, and read, first in bewilderment then
in delight: "New York to Castleton." A ticket! all properly stamped, and
paid for, undoubtedly. Did Tode hesitate, have great qualms of
conscience, consider what he ought to do, how to set about to find the
owner? He never once thought of any thing. Poor Tode hardly knew so much
as that there were such articles as consciences, much less that he had
anything to do with them. Somebody had lost his ticket, and _he_ had
found it, and it was precisely what he wanted. Once at Castleton, it
would be an easy matter to get to Albany. He thrust the precious card
into his pocket, swung himself on the train, and selected his seat at
leisure. Tode had never been to Sabbath-school, had never in his life
knelt at the family altar and been prayed for. There are boys, I fear
me, who having been shielded by both these things, placed in like
position would have followed his example.

The seat he selected was as far as possible removed from the one which
Mr. Hastings occupied. It was no part of Tode's plan to be discovered by
that gentleman just at present. On the whole, this part of his journey
was voted "tame." He had to sit up in his seat, and show his ticket like
any one else; and it required no skill at all to forget to jump off at
Castleton, and so of necessity be carried on. He sauntered over in Mr.
Hastings' vicinity once, and heard an important conversation.

"Can you tell me, sir," inquired that gentleman of his next neighbor,
"whether by taking the midnight train at Albany I shall reach Buffalo in
time to connect with a train on the Lake Shore Road?"

"You will, sir; but it is a slow train. By keeping right on now you can
connect with the Lake Shore Express."

"I know; but I have business that will detain me in Albany."

"So have I," muttered Tode, well pleased with the arrangement, and went
back to his seat.

* * * * *

"Halloo, Tode! where you been?" called out a sixteen-year old comrade
from a cellar grocery window, as Tode turned out of Broadway that same
evening.

"Been traveling for my health. Say, Jerry, seen anything of father
lately?"

"He'