A CLOSE CALL 147 



mistaken, and that he had to go by the Boston and 

 Albany Railway. My time was short and his, too. 

 Checking ray own baggage I engaged my berth, then 

 left my son with the remainder of the stuff and 

 started for the other depot. It was raining heavily, 

 and at that time of night I could find neither carriage 

 nor street car, and so was compelled partly to support 

 and carry, and partly to drag the sick boy on the 

 way. We reached the train with five minutes to 

 spare. After buying his ticket I helped him into a 

 car, laid him down and then hunted up the conductor 

 — a portly, pompous, beggar-on-horseback sort of a 

 fellow — and asked him if he wouldn't kindly look 

 after the boy to the end of his division and then ask 

 the following conductor also to see to his comfort. 

 His reply was perhaps what I might have expected. 

 " No, sir I I have no time to look after sick people. 

 I've got my train to attend to, and if the boy gives me 

 any trouble I'll put him off at Worcester and send 

 him to the hospital." A man was standing near him 

 (probably a railway official) who had listened to my 

 story and request and to the conductor's reply. He 

 turned quickly to the man of brass buttons and 

 swinging lantern, and spoke with a frown. The 

 words were few and their purport I did not catch ; 

 but, whatever it may have been, the change was 

 magical. The conductor came toward me and in the 

 most polite and cringing manner promised to look 



