"Well, Sam," he replied, his words dragging slowly along, "the yard's
always full, an' men a-waitin'. You'd have to give bonds for good
behavior, an' honesty, an'--"

"Never mind the rest, Mr. Briggs," said the ex-convict, shrinking an
inch or two in stature. "I didn't know about that, indeed I didn't, or
I--"

"Well, you needn't be a-Mr.-Briggs-in' me, anyhow," said the brakeman.
"I was only Jim before--you left town, Sam, an' I want you to go on
callin' me Jim, just the same. Do you understand that, confound you?"

"Yes, Mr.--Jim, I do; an' may God bless you for sayin' it!"

"Here we are; good luck by the car-load to you, Sam." Then the brakeman
looked back into the car and roared,--

"Bruceton."

The discharged prisoner consumed a great deal of time and distributed
many furtive glances as he alighted, though he got off the train on the
side opposite the little station. The train remained so long that when
finally it started there was no one on the station platform but the
agent, whose face was not familiar to the last passenger.

A gust of wind brought to the platform a scrap of a circus-poster which
had been loosened by recent rain from a fence opposite the station. The
agent kicked the paper from the platform; Sam picked it up and looked
at it; it bore a picture of a gorgeously-colored monkey and the head
and shoulders of an elephant.