"There is no use in being nasty about it," protested Kinney. "I am
only trying to show you a way that would lead to adventure."

"It surely would!" I assented. "It would lead us to jail."

The last week in August came, and, as to where we were to go we
still were undecided, I suggested we leave it to chance.

"The first thing," I pointed out, "is to get away from this awful
city. The second thing is to get away cheaply. Let us write down
the names of the summer resorts to which we can travel by rail or
by boat for two dollars and put them in a hat. The name of the
place we draw will be the one for which we start Saturday
afternoon. The idea," I urged, "is in itself full of adventure."

Kinney agreed, but reluctantly. What chiefly disturbed him was the
thought that the places near New York to which one could travel for
so little money were not likely to be fashionable.

"I have a terrible fear," he declared, "that, with this limit of
yours, we will wake up in Asbury Park."

Friday night came and found us prepared for departure, and at
midnight we held our lottery. In a pillow-case we placed twenty
slips of paper, on each of which was written the name of a summer
resort. Ten of these places were selected by Kinney, and ten by
myself. Kinney dramatically rolled up his sleeve, and, plunging
his bared arm into our grab-bag, drew out a slip of paper and read
aloud: "New Bedford, via New Bedford Steamboat Line." The choice