tune of her snoring, looked at her with a certain wistfulness for the
mothering he had never received from her, and went away.

He climbed out of the house as he had climbed in, and cut across lots
until he had reached a street some distance from his own neighborhood.
Then keeping carefully in the shadows, he took the shortest route to
the S.P. depot. An early car clanged toward him, but he waited in a
dark spot until it had passed and then hurried on. He passed an
all-night taxi stand in front of a hotel, but he did not disturb the
sleepy drivers. So by walking every step of the way, he believed that
he had reached the depot unnoticed, just when daylight was upon him
with gray wreaths of fog.

By the depot clock it was five minutes to five. A train was being
called, and the sing-song chant informed him that it was bound for
"Sa-anta Bar-bra--Sa-an Louis Oh bispo--Sa-linas--Sa-an 'Osay--Sa-an
Fransisco, and a-a-ll points north!"

Jack, with his rubber boots flapping on his back, took a run and a
slide to the ticket window and bought a ticket for San Francisco,
thinking rather feverishly of the various points north.




CHAPTER THREE

TO THE FEATHER RIVER COUNTRY AND FREEDOM