I had caught the fever of traveling pretty hard myself now, and as Allen was a sociable sort of chap as well as a good talker, it didn't take him long to convince me that Tucson was a poor town for us to remain in. Then, as two young fellows will, we soon came to an understanding that we would stick by each other through thick and thin and work our way to Los Angeles, Cal. Like most fellows who stay in the West long, Allen was a great bull-con man (hot air man). He told me they were already picking oranges around Los Angeles, and paying pickers the highest kind of prices. My own common sense ought to have told me that this wasn't true, and that Allen merely wanted me to go with him for company, but I hadn't been in the West long, and the poorest kind of bull-con dealer found in me an easy mark. I readily became as anxious to reach Los Angeles as Allen himself. "How do you propose going?" I asked. "A Mexican railroad foreman is going to ship me to Gila City, Ariz., to-night to do construction work, and I'll try to get him to ship you too," he promised. Late in the afternoon the Mexican in question showed up at the depot. Allen took him aside and had a long talk with him, during which time the Mexican glanced at me several times. Finally he got up and went into the depot. Allen now hurried over to me. "---- the luck," he exclaimed, "what are you wearing that white collar for?" The Mexican has gone after me a pass, but he says you look too sporty. "Hurry to your stopping place, quick! and get off them togs and I'll try him again." I had put up within a block of the depot, and in a short time I had made the change and returned, bringing my dress suit case. Allen had already received his pass and was anxiously waiting for me. "Hide your dress suit case!" he whispered. I had barely done so when the Mexican came out of the depot. It was nearly dark now and there was a surging crowd of ladies and men on the depot yards waiting to meet the incoming train. Allen pushed his way through the crowd and once more directed the Mexican's attention towards me. The Mexican had no sooner glanced at me than he took out a pencil and wrote something on Allen's pass. A few moments later he left the depot and went hurrying up the street; and Allen approached me with a smile. Upon his pass had been scrawled the two words, "And friend." Shortly after, we were comfortably seated in a Southern Pacific passenger coach and bound far out upon the desert to Gila City, 180 miles away. Allen had but thirty-five cents, while I was again stranded without a penny. Just as day was breaking we were roused by the conductor and put down at Gila City. Its an unusual thing for a passenger to get on or off at Gila City. Some of the passengers straightened up in their seats and watched us with interest, as we slowly got our things together and left the car at this desolate spot, located almost in the very middle of the desert.