The bundles had been carefully packed by a loving mother, who had thoughtfully placed in one of them a small Bible. I felt better as I placed the little book in an inside pocket, and I would read it and daily pray to God to take me safely through the long journey before me. My next move was to astonish the negro at the number of shirts and socks I got into. "Put on all you can and be quick," I exclaimed, in answer to his questioning gaze. He needed no second invitation, and I now began to stuff my pockets with the smaller things, again inviting him to follow suit. About the first thing he grabbed up was a $1.50 razor, which I politely deprived him of. Within a few minutes the train slackened speed and pulled into the yards. Quickly alighting and bidding me to follow, the negro made off from the tracks at full speed. At first I thought he was running away with my things, but the wisdom of the move was soon apparent, for at a safe distance, he pointed out to me two slow moving lights going up and down both sides of the train we had just deserted. "Spotters," he whispered, breathing heavily. I realized then just how green I was at the profession of hoboing. Undoubtedly I would have again been picked up, and this time it might not have gone so easily with me as at Chadbourn. For nearly an hour we walked about the streets of Florence looking for a restaurant, but it was yet too early for them to open, and, disappointed, we returned to the railroad yards. Two or three trains were beginning to pull out when we arrived. Plunging between two long freights, and walking rapidly, my companion began to scan the car doors. "In here," he presently whispered, drawing up before an empty car. "This is the Junction train, and will leave in a few minutes." Afraid of going wrong and being pretty well frightened, I hesitated. "What Junction? Are you sure this is the right train?" I questioned, fearing the cars might be made up for Atlanta or Columbia. His reply was to furtively glance up and down the tracks, and the next instant he had vanished through the half open door. Greatly frightened, I followed. Quickly and silently we closed the door, leaving us in impenetrable darkness. It was not long before an engine bumped against the cars, and shortly after we pulled out. The day dawned beautiful and clear, and being warm, we opened the car door to enjoy the sunshine. We had gone some fifty or sixty miles down the road, perhaps, when the mulatto declared his intention of getting out to buy something to eat. "You had better stay in here," I called, but the next moment he was gone. To my dismay a few minutes later the train slowly began to move off, then faster and faster. Downhearted, I sat down in the end of the car alone. The wheels began to roar and sing with increasing speed. Once more I cast a last despairing glance at the door. Suddenly a hand was thrust into the opening! In a flash it had disappeared.