sun-crowned peaks of the mighty "Rockies," sharply silhouetted against
the dazzling blue of the sky.

Children's voices behind him suddenly broke in upon his reverie.

"That man!" said a small squeaking treble, "was a hobo. He was sitting
in that car in front with the hard seats an' I went up to him an' I said,
'Hullo, Mister! why don't you wash your face an' shave it? we've all
washed our faces this morning' . . . . We did, didn't we, Alice?--an'
washed Porkey's too, an' he said 'Hullo, Bo! wash my face?--I don't have
to--I might catch cold.'"

"But Jerry!" said another child's voice, "I don't think he could have
been a real hobo, or he'd have had an empty tomato-can hanging around his
neck on a string, like the pictures of 'Weary Willie' an' 'Tired Tim' in
the funny papers."

Then ensued the sounds as of a juvenile scuffle and squawk. Master Jerry
apparently resented having his pet convictions treated in this "Doubting
Thomas" fashion, for the next thing George heard him say, was:

"Goozlemy, goozlemy, goozlemy! . . . No! he hadn't got a tomato-can,
silly! but he'd got a big, fat bottle in his pocket an' he pulled the
cork out of it an' sucked an' I said 'What have you got in your bottle?'
an' he said 'Cold tea' but it didn't smell a bit like cold tea. There's
a Mounted Policeman sitting in that seat in front of us. Let's ask him.
Policemen always lock hoboes up in gaol an' kick them in the stomach,
like you see them in the pictures."

The next instant there came a pattering of little feet and two small