Upon leaving Mrs. Sprague's I walked down town from the fair grounds, a distance of about three miles. The first man I asked for a job was F. P. Holland, the rich editor of the _Texas Farm and Ranch_. He said he had no work at present. Before leaving, I told him I was sick, cold and hungry, and had nowhere to sleep that night. I asked him to loan me $1.00 until I could get on my feet and pay him back. He loaned me 25 cents, which I was glad to be able to pay back in a few days. Leaving the rich man and his luxury, I took a long tramp back to the fair grounds, where someone said I could get a job. Secretary Sidney Smith was in charge of the work, and after hearing my story, kindly furnished me a place to sleep and eat, and gave me a job helping to repair the fair grounds. "I don't really need any more labor," he said, "but I believe in helping a man when he's down." He secured me a place to board at No. 270 South Carroll Ave., with one of the foremen, Mr. R. Downey. That night I was surprised to learn that the young lady, who had waited on me so nicely at the store, was Mr. Downey's daughter. While at Mrs. Downey's I was taken down with a high fever, and for the first time since leaving home I had a hard spell of asthma. This only increased my desire to get to Arizona or New Mexico. Good cotton choppers around Dallas are paid $1.75 per day and board. About two weeks later I left the city. After paying for my board and buying a few articles of clothing, I had but $3.00. I left Dallas one Sunday evening on a street car for Fort Worth. The distance is about 22 miles. That same afternoon an employment bureau run by Glenn & Co. shipped me for $1.00 from Fort Worth over the Fort Worth and Denver Road to Iowa Park, Tex., to do railroad construction work. I was trying to reach El Paso, which is only 600 miles over the Texas Pacific Road from Fort Worth, but while in Fort Worth I was told it was almost as much as a man's life was worth to try to beat the T. P. road between these points, on account of the extreme cruelty of the brakemen, so I decided to go around the longest way, which would take me through New Mexico. On the way to Iowa Park, I fell in with a young man from Chicago, who had also shipped out. That night we deserted the train at a small station just before reaching Iowa Park. We were now nearly two hundred miles from Fort Worth and had ridden the entire distance for $1.00. I have forgotten the young man's name, but will call him White. He said he had left his home in Chicago to settle somewhere in the West and make his fortune. We decided to travel along together awhile. About daylight we caught a freight train. A long smokestack of some kind was loaded on a flat-car. Into the smutty stack we crawled, he entering one end and I the other, and crawled until our heads met in the middle. When we came together White was trembling all over. "I've done everything since leaving home but hobo," said he.