Desk and Debit Part 3

"Why, no! I didn't think of such a thing."

"Well, madam, have you found your ticket?" asked the conductor, returning from the rear of the car.

"Hain't seen hide nor hair on't."

"Just get out of the seat and shake yourself. If you had a ticket at all, it is here somewhere," added the gentlemanly official.

"Do you think I didn't have no ticket?" demanded Mrs. Whippleton, pursing up her lips to express her wounded feelings.

"I don't know; jump up, and we will see."

I left my seat, and with a labored effort the old lady followed my example. The conductor searched on the floor, and in the chair, overhauled the bundles, and turned up the back of the seat, but with no better success than had attended our previous efforts.

"Sartin 'tain't there," said the old lady, as she worked herself into her seat again.

"No, it is not. Are you sure you had a ticket?"

"Do you think I'd lie about it?"

"Perhaps you lost it before you got into the car."

"No, I didn't. I had it while I sot here. I reckon you lost it when you stirred up my things. If you hadn't teched 'em, it would have been all right."

"Well, madam, I want your ticket or your fare."

"But I hain't got no ticket."

"Then give me twelve dollars."

"Twelve dollars!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old lady. "Do you think I'm made of money?"

"I don't know that I care what you are made of, if you pay your fare."

"But I've spent all my money. I hain't got twelve dollars. Besides, I don't want to pay twice."

"If you find your ticket, I will give you back your money."

"I tell you I hain't got twelve dollars. You can't hatch wooden eggs."

"Then you must leave the car, madam."

"Leave the car! And not go back to Chicago?"

"I must have your ticket or your fare before we stop next time," said the conductor, pa.s.sing on.

CHAPTER IV.

IN WHICH PHIL IS CHIVALROUS, BUT HAS HIS EYES OPENED.

I thought that the conductor was rather hard on the old lady, though I was willing to allow that his duty admitted of no compromise.

"Did you ever hear the like on't?" exclaimed the old lady. "Put me out of the car! He's a mean man, and I hate mean folks wus'n pizen."

"I suppose he has his duty to perform," I mildly suggested.

"'Tain't his duty to put a lone and onprotected woman out of the car; and he wouldn't do it if my son Charles was here."

I concluded that if her son Charles were there, he would pay her fare, like a dutiful son as he was. Presently the whistle on the locomotive sounded, and we heard the sc.r.a.ping of the brakes, as the train prepared to stop. The conductor promptly appeared, and again demanded her fare or a ticket. The old lady seemed to be greatly troubled, and I expected to have the whole seat to myself from this station.

"Suthin must be done!" said the old lady.

"That's so; give me your ticket or the twelve dollars," replied the official.

"I can't do one nor t'other. I hain't got the money, and my ticket's gone."

"Very well, madam. Then you must leave the train."

"But I don't know a soul here. Won't you trust me till we get to Chicago?"

"I don't know you, and we do not give credit for fares."

"Mr. Collingsby, over there, knows me. My son's his pardner in business."

"Very well, madam; if that is the case, there will be no trouble about it," added the polite official, as he turned to the dignified gentleman, and stated the case.

Mr. Collingsby glanced at the old lady, and shook his head, with a deprecatory smile.

"I have not the pleasure of the lady's acquaintance," said he, after a hasty glance at her face, as he turned his attention to his newspaper again.

"She says her son is your partner in business," suggested the conductor.

"That may be; but I don't know the lady. I am not aware that I ever saw her," answered the head of the firm, without raising his eyes from his paper.

"What is your name, madam?" demanded the conductor.

"Don't he know my name? Don't he know the name of his own pardner?"

"I asked your name, madam."

"My name's Whippleton--Mrs. Whippleton; and my son's his pardner."

"She says her name is Whippleton, and that her son is your partner,"

said the conductor, again appealing to the dignified head of the firm.

"I don't dispute it, sir," replied Mr. Collingsby, coldly. "My partner's name is Whippleton, but I don't know that lady. As I said, I am not aware that I ever saw her before."