Tom did not, but he noticed that the tramp appeared to be very friendly to the motorman and talked frequently with him. The electric line to Dodville ran through a stretch of country not thickly populated, and at one point it switched over another trolley road which ran to a distant, thriving village. The boys were so engrossed in their fun, laughing and joking that they paid little attention to matters outside, and the time passed quickly. Holly Cross was giving (by request) an imitation of a well-known vaudeville performer when Sid, who happened to look out of the window, exclaimed: "Say, fellows, where, for the love of tripe, are we? This isn't the road to Dodville." "Aw, what's eatin' you?" demanded Dutch Housenlager. "Could the trolley car go off by itself on a road alone? Answer me that!" "I don't know what it could do, it's what it has done," retorted Sid. "I know this road. It goes to Fayetmore, which is next door to Squankum Center. Fellows, we're five miles from Dodville!" "Get out!" cried Langridge, unwilling to believe it. "Fact!" asserted Sid. "We're five miles out of our way, on the wrong road, and the game starts in less than an hour. They'll call it a forfeit on us and never stop twitting us about this." "Ah, you must be wrong," declared Holly Cross. "Don't you s'pose the motorman knows the way? It isn't as if this was an auto." Sid pulled open the front door. The tramp, who had been talking to the motorman, had gone. "I say," began the first baseman, "is this the road to Dodville? Aren't you on the wrong line?" "Why, sir, I don't rightly know," replied the motorman somewhat timidly. "You don't know?" repeated Sid incredulously. "No. I--I hope this is the right road." "You hope so!" cried Langridge. "Well, I should say yes. Why don't you know?" "Well, you see, I'm new on this section of the line. To-day is my first run. I took the turn back there where the gentleman told me to." "What gentleman?" "The one who was out here on the platform with me. He said he was your manager." "Manager!" fairly yelled Langridge. "Why, I'm the manager of this team." "Can't help it. That's what the gentleman said. He said he knew the road to Dodville, and when I got to the switch he told me to come this way." "What was his name?" demanded Langridge, who was beginning to "scent a rodent," as Holly Cross said. "He gave me his card," went on the motorman, who had halted his car in the midst of a lonely stretch of woods. "Let's see!" cried Sid. The trolley man fumbled in his pocket for it. Tom looked back, but could not see the other special car. That had probably been some distance behind the first one and had doubtless gone the right road, the motorman not suspecting that his predecessor was not ahead of him. Sid took the bit of pasteboard which the man held out to him. He looked at it and then uttered an exclamation.