“Orders?” said the motorman. “Orders? What are you tin-plated chumps doing in this part of the country, anyhow?” Tommie shrugged his shoulders. “It is like this,” said he: “Old Man Rockerfeller has come to call on an old woman that used to cook for him, and the company’s give him the rights of this car--my Mote’s taking him around to the house now. We’ve got to wait till he comes back, and you’ve got to wait, too; that’s all.” The other jumped in the air with astonishment and fury. “Well, wouldn’t that knock the frizzles out of your hair?” said he. “Those old devils can have anything they want, no matter what breaks, can’t they?” “That is just about the size of it, partner,” said Tommie; “but here comes Jimmie. We’ll spin back and turn out for you below.” “Thankee, old man,” said the motorman; “much obliged; but I can tell you one thing: I am going to join the Ancient and Honorable Order of Amalgamated Anarchists this night. You bet! Call on his cook, and block the whole line! Well--” This affair being arranged, 809 grasped the wire with her trolley, threw off her brakes and went rushing forward to her fate. As she sped down Poolton Avenue a party of young men, with long hair, ran out of a café, yelling wildly. Tommie pulled the bell. “Stop her, Jimmie,” he said. “They look like our kind of people.” “Where are you going?” asked the panting youth who arrived first. “Any old place,” said Tommie. The youth stopped. “Hey?” said he. “What’s that?” said Tommie. “Oh,” said the young man, “I only wanted to know where you went to.” “Answer same as before,” said Tommie. “Any old place. We have broke loose from the tediousness of this darned commercial life, and we are taking in the United States to suit ourselves.” “Do you mean that?” earnestly inquired the young man. “Try us,” said Tommie. “We’re only a few.” At this juncture, all former passengers descended from the car. “Yours is the route we have been planning,” said the long-haired young man. All the young men boarded the car, singing loudly a song about their dear old something or other. Thomas advanced to the front platform, and 809 gathered herself and hit the irons per record. She passed would-be passengers as the City Council passes a bill for more salaries for faithful services. She was a gallant sight. Once when Jimmie went aft to tell a funny story he had heard the night before, 809 rammed a street-piano with such insistence and velocity that it landed on top of a load of furniture, still playing one of Sousa’s marches. The Italian burned his thumb in blazing away at the departing monster with an eighty-nine-cent revolver. The young men gathered on the back platform and encouraged him to shoot with a little more art. Three blocks away, speeding toward them, there came a red thing, coughing, with inhuman rapidity. There were four things in it that looked like Mr. H. G. Wells’ inhabitants of the moon.