110 THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 



^ stood! This beast of fire and tireless wheels wast 

 2^doing its best to get the eggs to Agassiz ! 



t " We swung out past the Blue Hills, and yonder 

 ; flashed the morning sun from the towering dome of 

 the State House. I might have leaped from the cab 



and 



run the rest of the way on foot, had I not ^ 

 caught the eye of the engineer watching me nar- ^ 

 rowly. I was not in Boston yet, nor in Cambridge ]> 

 x either. I was an escaped lunatic, who had held up a ^ 

 ^ train, and forced it to carry me from Middleboro to 

 Boston. 



" Perhaps I had overdone the lunacy business. 

 Suppose these two men should take it into their 

 ...'heads to turn me over to the police, whether "I 

 * would or no ? I could never explain the case in time 

 ; to get the eggs to Agassiz. I looked at my watch. 

 m1 Lere were still a few minutes left in which I might 

 explain to these men, who, all at once, had become 

 my captors. But how explain? Nothing could avail 

 against my actions, my appearance, and my little 

 pail of sand. 



"I had not thought of my appearance before. 

 Here I was, face and clothes caked with yellow mud, 

 my hair wild and matted, my hat gone, and in my full- 

 grown hands a tiny tin pail of sand, as if I had been 

 digging all night with a tiny tin shovel on the shore ! 

 And thus to appear in the decent streets of Boston 

 of a Sunday morning ! 

 ; " I began to feel like a lunatic. The situation 



