“Suddenly, as we were nearing the outer freight-yard, the train slowed down and came to a stop. I was ready to jump, but still I had no chance. They had nothing to do, apparently, but to guard me. I looked at my watch again. What time we had made! It was only six o’clock,--a whole hour left in which to get to Cambridge! “But I didn’t like this delay. Five minutes--ten--went by. “‘Gentlemen,’ I began, but was cut short by an express train coming past. We were moving again, on--into a siding--on to the main track--on with a bump and a crash and a succession of crashes, running the length of the train--on, on at a turtle’s pace, but on,--when the fireman, quickly jumping for the bell-rope, left the way to the step free, and-- “I never touched the step, but landed in the soft sand at the side of the track, and made a line for the freight-yard fence. “There was no hue or cry. I glanced over my shoulder to see if they were after me. Evidently their hands were full, or they didn’t know I had gone. “But I had gone; and was ready to drop over the high board-fence, when it occurred to me that I might drop into a policeman’s arms. Hanging my pail in a splint on top of a post, I peered cautiously over--a very wise thing to do before you jump a high board-fence. There, crossing the open square toward the station, was a big, burly fellow with a club--looking for me! “I flattened for a moment, when some one in the freight-yard yelled at me. I preferred the policeman, and, grabbing my pail, I slid softly over to the street. The policeman moved on past the corner of the station out of sight. The square was free, and yonder stood a cab. “Time was flying now. Here was the last lap. The cabman saw me coming, and squared away. I waved a dollar-bill at him, but he only stared the more. A dollar can cover a good deal, but I was too much for one dollar. I pulled out another, thrust them both at him, and dodged into the cab, calling, ‘Cambridge!’ “He would have taken me straight to the police-station, had I not said, ‘Harvard College. Professor Agassiz’s house! I’ve got eggs for Agassiz,’ pushing another dollar up at him through the hole. “It was nearly half past six. “‘Let him go!’ I ordered. ‘Here’s another dollar if you make Agassiz’s house in twenty minutes. Let him out; never mind the police!’ “He evidently knew the police, or there were none around at that time on a Sunday morning. We went down the sleeping streets, as I had gone down the wood-roads from the pond two hours before, but with the rattle and crash now of a fire brigade. Whirling a corner into Cambridge Street, we took the bridge at a gallop, the driver shouting out something in Hibernian to a pair of waving arms and a belt and brass buttons.