"Well, there's no use getting into a dispute over our respective cities," went on the stranger. "Everyone thinks his home town is the best. Are you two traveling far?" Thus the conversation opened, and the three were soon chatting pleasantly together. In due time the train arrived at Jersey City, just across the Hudson River from New York. "Here we are!" exclaimed Mr. De Royster. "A short trip across the ferry now, and we'll be in the biggest city in the Western hemisphere." Roy followed his friend from the train, mingling with the crowd on the platform under the big shed. "Wait a minute!" exclaimed Roy. "What for?" "I've got to see about my baggage. It's checked. I wonder if I can hire a pack mule, or get a stage driver to bring it up?" "Pack mule?" "Sure. That's how I got it from the ranch to the depot." Mortimer De Royster laughed. "I guess there isn't a pack mule within two thousand miles of here," he said. "Nor a stage either, unless it's the automobile ones on Fifth avenue. But I'll show you what to do. Wait a minute though. You don't know where you're going to stop, do you?" "Not exactly." "Then if you'll allow me, I'll pick out a good hotel for you." "I'll leave it to you, pardner," said Roy, with a helpless feeling that, however much he might know about ranch life, he was all at sea in a big city. "All right. Then I'll give your checks to an expressman, and he'll bring the trunks to the hotel. Right over this way." Mortimer De Royster led Roy through the crowd, to the express office. The matter of the baggage was soon attended to, and the agent promised to have the trunk and large valise at the hotel before night. It was now four o'clock. "Come on!" cried De Royster again, pushing his way through the crowd, with Roy who carried a small valise, containing a few clothes, following close after him. "Wait a minute!" again called the boy from the ranch. "What's the matter now?" "I want to sort of get my bearings. This is a new trail to me, and I'd like to get the lay of the land. Say, what's all the stampede about? These folks are milling, ain't they?" "Stampede? This isn't a stampede. They're in a rush to get the ferry boat. What do you mean by milling?" "Why they're like cattle going around and around, and they don't seem to be getting anywhere." "Oh, that's it, eh, my dear chap. Well, they're all anxious to get to New York, that's why they're rushing so. Come on or we'll miss the boat." Mortimer De Royster led the way through the ferry house, and out on the boat. He took a seat in the ladies' cabin, and Roy sat down beside him. The dude had bought a paper, which he was glancing over, momentarily paying no attention to Roy. Suddenly the boy from the ranch, who was looking about him with curious eyes, jumped up and exclaimed: "Something's the matter. The depot has been cut loose!" "Cut loose? What do you mean?" "Why, we're afloat! There's water outside."