ash my hands, it was five minutes of
three. I said, 'Is there a train back to Minneapolis before very long?'
'Yes,' says the watchman, 'the fast freight goes through a little after
three.' 'How much after?' I said. 'Oh,' he says, 'I couldn't say
exactly. Five or eight minutes, I guess.' I asked when the next train
went, and he said there wasn't a regular passenger till six-fifty-five.
Well, sir, maybe you think I was going to wait four hours in that hole!
I went out of that building to beat the limited--never thought of the
wheelbarrow till I was halfway to the station. And there was some of the
liveliest stepping you ever saw. Couldn't see a thing except the light
on the rails from the arc lamp up by the station. I got about halfway
there--running along between the rails--and banged into a
switch--knocked me seven ways for Sunday. Lost my hat picking myself up,
and couldn't stop to find it."

Peterson turned in toward one of a long row of square frame houses.

"Here we are," he said. As they went up the stairs he asked: "Did you
make the train?"

"Caught the caboose just as she was swinging out. They dumped me out in
the freight yards, and I didn't get home till 'most five o'clock. I went
right to bed, and along about eight o'clock Brown came in and woke me
up. He was feeling pretty nervous. 'Say, Charlie,' he said, 'ain't it
time for you to be starting?' 'Where to?' said I. 'Over to Stillwater,'
he said. 'There ain't any getting out of it. That drive's got to be
running to-morrow.' 'That's all right,' said I, 'but I'd like to know if
I can't have one day's rest between jobs--Sunday, too. And I lost
thirty-two pounds.' Well, sir, he didn't know whether to get hot or not.
I guess he thought himself they were kind of rubbing it in. 'Look here,'
he said, 'are you going to Stillwater, or ain't you?' 'No,' said I, 'I
ain't. Not for a hundred rope drives.' Well, he just got up and took his
hat and started out. 'Mr. Brown,' I said, when he was opening the door,
'I lost my hat down at Stillwater last night. I reckon the office ought
to stand for it.' He turned around and looked queer, and then he
grinned. 'So you went over?' he said. 'I reckon I did,' said I. 'What
kind of a hat did you lose?' he asked, and he grinned again. 'I guess it
was a silk one, wasn't it?' 'Yes,' said I, 'a silk hat--something about
eight dollars.'"

"Did he mean he'd give you a silk hat?" asked Peterson.

"Couldn't say."

They were sitting in t