to the objective switch, wherever that was, and
no doubt would find himself nearer the main freight depot, with little
or no walking to do on his journey to the square.

But the "string" was not bound for another track in the yards; it was on
its way to the main line, thence off through the winding valley into
strange and distant lands.

Sir Vagabond, blissfully swinging his heels and munching his venison,
smiled amiably upon the yard men as he passed them by. So genial was the
smile, so frank the salutation, that not one scowled back at him or
hurled the chunk of coal that bespeaks a surly temper. Down through the
maze of sidetracks whisked the little train, out upon the main line with
a thin shriek of greeting, past the freight houses--it was then that Sir
Vagabond sat up very straight, a look of mild interest in his eyes.
Interest gave way to perplexity, perplexity to concern. What's this?
Leaving the city? He wasted no time. This would never do! Clutching his
belongings to his side, he vaulted from one hand, nimbly and with the
gracefulness of wide experience, landing safely on his feet at the
roadside.

There he stood with the wry, dazed look of a man who suddenly finds
himself guilty of arrant stupidity, watching the cars whiz past on their
way to the open country. Just ahead was the breach in the wall through
which all trains entered or left the city. Into that breach shot the
train, going faster and faster as it saw the straight, clear track
beyond. He waited until the tail end whisked itself out of sight in the
cut below the city walls, and then trudged slowly, dejectedly in the
opposite direction, his heart in his boots. He was thinking of the
luckless pair in the empty "box."

Suddenly he stopped, his chin up, his hands to his sides. A hearty peal
of laughter soared from his lips. He was regarding the funny side of the
situation. The joke was on them! It was rich! The more he thought of
their astonishment on awaking, the more he laughed. He leaned against a
car.

His immense levity attracted attention. Four or five men approached him
from the shadows of the freight houses, ugly, unsmiling fellows. They
demanded of him the cause of his unseemly mirth. With tears in his merry
black eyes he related the plight of the pretty slumberers, dwelling more
or less sentimentally on the tender beauty of the maiden fair. They
plied him with questions. He described the couple--even glowingly. Then
the sinister fellows