take my chance on the water, however stormy it might be. It made me pause when this same night an unknown man was struck down by a fast express train, mangled and cut into pieces. Two or three trains left this town of Cumberland before I could summon sufficient courage to ride. I was standing, still wondering whether I should ride or walk from this town to Baltimore, when a switchman, who had just helped finish making ready a train, said--"Hello, lad; which way are you going, to Baltimore?" On answering in the affirmative, he said, pointing to this train, "Jump on: you will be there early in the morning!" Which I did, at the same time saying to myself, "This is my last train ride in America, whether I live or die." No sleep that night, and I was not sorry to reach Baltimore. I had something like fifty dollars at this time, and intended to go at once to the cattleman's office, and to ship at the first opportunity, so that I might still have a few pounds left when I landed in England. So, when I reached Baltimore, I soon made my way to that place, and on entering, recognised several of the old cattlemen, among whom was no less a person than Australian Red, who it seemed had lost all ambition for a more respectable life. I invited him out, with two others, and we had several drinks, and at night visited the theatre. "Now," I said, after leaving the theatre, well knowing that these men would unscrupulously bleed me to the last cent, and would take a cunning delight in robbing me and bearing all expenses themselves--"now," I said, "one drink more, and we have reached the end of my resources."