Bob Chester's Grit - From Ranch to Riches by Frank V. Webster
page 57 of 190 (30%)
page 57 of 190 (30%)
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The tone in which the question was asked now caused the other
passengers, who had hitherto been too busy getting themselves comfortably settled to notice Bob, to turn their gaze upon him. "I'm going to Chicago," returned Bob. But the hostile look on the porter's face scared him, and he could not help a tremor that crept into his voice as he made his reply. "Whar's yer ticket?" snarled the negro. Reaching into his pocket, Bob drew forth the long strip of paper and presented it to the officious porter. "The ticket's all right," grunted the man. "Now, whar's youah parlah cyar ticket?" "My what?" asked Bob. "Youah parlah cyar ticket." "That's all the ticket I have," returned Bob. "Isn't that enough? I told the man I wanted a chair-car ticket, and that's what he gave me." "Huh! I thought so. This ain't no chair cyar. This is a parlah cyar. The cyar you-all want is up front, four cyars ahead. Now get out of hyar lively." "But I can't get out while the train's going," protested Bob. "I might get hurt, and--and besides, I want to go to Chicago, and if I get off |
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