“I was a standin’ on the platform here this aft’noon, a-waitin’ fur the train to go home, when two right-smart young fellows kem up, an’ sez they, ‘Hillo! old John Hess, what on airth air you a-doin’?’ Got the advantage uv me,’ says I, ‘don’t know yah!’ ‘What,’ sez they, ‘don’t know old man Turkman’s nevies?’ Sez I, ‘Be you Levi Turkman’s sister Maria’s boys eh?’ Says they, ‘why of course,’ an’ we got a-talking about Toronto and politics, an’ religion, an’ the crops, when who shud come up to one of ’um but a man who wanted pay for freight, er somethin’ er another. Well one uv these chaps pulls out a hundred-dollar bill, but the man sed he couldn’t change it no how. They then asked me to lend them the money, $69.47, and I COULD KEEP THE $100 BILL till we went up town and changed it. I forks it out convenient like, and tuk the $100 bill, and the three of um went off to see about the freight, an’ I haven’t seen a sight on ’em since.” “And the $100 bill?” “Ain’t worth shucks! and they ain’t old man Turkman’s nevies no more nor you be. Ef I had the consarned cheats here now I cud lick a ten-acre field full on ’em. Bin a huntin’ all over town fur ’em, but ’taint no use. Dang the town ennyway.” Here comes a lady with her dear little boy—one of those dear little boys who makes the ordinary traveler just ache to spank him. “Maw!” he says, “where you goin’ to?” “I want to see the conductor, dear.” “Maw! wot’s a conductor?” “He has charge of the train, dear.” “Maw! wot does he do that for?” “For a salary, dear.” “Maw! wot’s a salary?” “Oh, dear, don’t bother me.” “Maw, w’y won’t you let your little boy bother you?” “Hush, I want to speak to the conductor.” “Maw, wot you goin’ to speak to the conductor for?” “I want to know if the train stops at Guelph.” “Maw, is that where my gran’paw lives?” “No, he lives in Goderich.” “Maw, wot does he live there for?” and so on endlessly. The crowd thickens, the gong strikes, the cheering “all-aboard” of the conductor is heard, and in a few minutes the night express is darting like a meteor through the darkened land. CHAPTER XXIV. THE EMIGRANT TRAIN.