COE was chartered by the sovereign States of Florida and Alabama to construct his line “from that part of the Atlantic Ocean called the Gulf of Mexico, in the former State,” to a point “at or near” the Tennessee River in the latter. And so “a point at or near the Tennessee River” was the first object of our journey, and this proved as definite a designation as we could give it; though it had public parks and corner lots and a name--on paper. Its name in reality was “Cat Island,” the only native settlement being on a beautifully wooded island thus called, midstream in the river. “Wouldn’t do to call it that, you know,” said Coe, in a burst of frankness. “Famous place for chills and fever; everybody born on Cat Island, white or black, turns clay-color! So we thought of Bagdad--from its resemblance to the Euphrates.” Mrs. Judge Pennoyer had come; but so had a strange young man whose name I found was Raoul. He devoted himself to Miss May with a simplicity of purpose amazing to a Northern mind. Hardly anyone knew of the expedition at Knoxville, but when we arrived at Bagdad, that spacious plain was peopled in a way to delight the speculator. “Who are they?” I asked of Coe, puzzled at his evident anxiety where I expected pride. “Who are they, O Caliph of Bagdad?” “Who are they? The Mesopotamians. Dash it,” he added, “they’ve come, with their wives and children, for the trip.” So, indeed, they had. Tim Healy met us as we alighted on the platform of the old railroad station--there was, indeed, a platform, but nothing more--and grasping Coe and me warmly by the hand, said rapidly, in the latter’s ear, “had to invite a few of them, you know--prominent gen’lemen of the neighborhood--valuable political influence”--and then, aloud, “General McBride, gen’lemen. Mrs. McBride. Judge Hankinson I think you know. Mr. Coe, I want you fo’ to know Senator Langworthy; one of our most prominent citizens, gen’lemen, an’ I had the grea-at-est difficulty in persuading the senator fo’ to come along. I told him, Mr. Coe, we could show him something of a railroad already----” Coe expressed his acknowledgments. “Sir, it was a pleasure to study the developments of my country. It does not need to be a citizen of Bagdad to appreciate the advantages of your location,” and the senator waved his hand in the direction of a rusty line of track I then first perceived winding across the prairie from the Tennessee. “Let me introduce to you Mrs. Langworthy.” A pale lady, with bonnet-strings untied and a baby at the breast, was indicated by the second gesture; she looked worn and world-weary, but I lived to learn she had an endurance of hardship Stanley might have envied, and a relish for fried cakes and bacon in the small hours of night that I am sure only an optimist could feel. “My partner, Mr. Hanks. My wife’s sister, Miss McClung.”