Going on a small vessel I asked for soap and water.
I was given a big cake of dirty looking soap, half as large as my head, and told to draw my own water. Seizing a water bucket to which a long rope was attached, I cast overboard and soon drew into view a big bucketful of slimy looking water, that at home my own dog would have sniffed at contemptuously. But a chap buffeting against the world, as I was now doing, soon learns not to be too choice. After awhile he forgets the luxuries that were once his, and in most respects life assumes a different aspect.
Having washed up, I thanked the boatman and left the wharves.
A good dinner made me feel better, and I decided to stay in town over night and rest up.
After dinner I found a nice room and paid for a night's lodging in advance.
About one o'clock in the afternoon I retired to sleep, determined to get as much rest as possible for my money before next morning.
I slept probably two hours, and then awoke with an uncomfortable feeling. I had been dreaming of beating trains and of several narrow escapes from death.
A cop chasing me dangerously close had awakened me.
The bed seemed moving and the whole room whirling around. As soon as my eyes became accustomed to objects in the room and I saw that I was really safe from harm, I again tried to go to sleep, but it was no use, for the bed now seemed literally flying through space, and though lying in the middle, it seemed all I could do to maintain my position.
The train for New Orleans would leave at 4:30, and I yet had over an hour to reach the depot.
The man who uncoupled the engine of the Flomaton passenger that morning showed up just before train time.
I told him I intended trying to beat the train to New Orleans.
He promised he would fix it up with the engineer for me, but that I must look out myself for the conductor, as he didn't know him.
"You'd better look out going through Mississippi, though," he said. "The train makes but three regular stops--Scranton, Biloxi and Gulf Port. If you are not sharp you'll get run in at one of those places."
"Don't turn your head!" he suddenly whispered, "there's a detective under the depot looking at you now. We'd better not be seen talking together."