50 THE FACE OF THE FIELDS 



would or no ? I could never explain the case in 

 time to get the eggs to Agassiz. I looked at my 

 watch. There were still a few minutes left, in 

 which I might explain to these men, who, all at 

 once, had become my captors. But it was too 

 late. 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 ap- 

 pear in the decent streets of Boston of a Sunday 

 morning ! 



" I began to feel like a lunatic. The situation 

 was serious, or might be, and rather desperately 

 funny at its best. I must in some way have shown 

 my new fears, for both men watched me more 

 sharply. 



" Suddenly, as we were nearing the outer 

 freight-yard, the train slowed down and came to 

 a stop. I was ready to jump, but I had no chance. 

 They had nothing to do, apparently, but to guard 

 me. I looked at my watch again. What time we 



