"I can't think of the name of it now, but they have a railroad in the second story of the street there, and instead of collecting fare, when the proprietors came around they put money in our outside pockets, thinking we might meet someone who was not a brother. Judd remained with me five days, taking me to his own residence at night, which was twice as big as The Locks, and when we finally parted, he loaded me down with presents, and shed tears. Next to the sign, the apron is the greatest thing in the world; I am sorry you do not wear it." Armsby wandered leisurely out into the office soon after, probably to smoke the cigars his wife kept there in a case for sale, when Mrs. Armsby came into the dining-room, and sat down, looking mortified and distressed. "Silas," she said, "don't believe a word Armsby has said to you, or ever will say, on this subject. Before he became a slave to this dreadful lodge habit, he was a truthful man, but you can't believe a word he says now. Do you know what they do at the lodges?" Davy shook his head, for of course no one except a member _could_ know. "Let me tell you, then. They tie cooks' aprons around their waists, put fools' caps on their heads, and quarrel as to whether the hailing sign, or the aid sign, or whatever it is, is made by holding up one finger when the right thumb is touching the right ear, or whether it is two or three or four fingers. It is all about as ridiculous as this, and my advice to you is, never join. Armsby has been talking to you a good deal about the matter lately, and I suspect he wants the fun of initiating you, which is accompanied with all sorts of tricks, which gives them opportunity to make fun of you from behind their paper masks." Since it was impossible to believe both stories, Silas made up his mind to ask Tug's opinion,--Tug would know,--but he said nothing.