The sun was sinking behind the pine fields and dusk was slowly clothing the earth in its folds as we rode into Palatka. The train pulled in, and as fate would have it, the engine drew up only a few yards beyond the depot. As we passed slowly by, I saw a policeman on the platform of the station and, quick as a flash, I jumped from where I was standing on the rear of the coal car to the platform of the baggage coach, and crouched, to prevent his seeing me as the train passed. I hid myself on the very bottom step of the car, opposite where he was standing, but evidently he saw me jump from my perch, or else he saw the top of my head as we passed, for we had no sooner come to a standstill, when, peeping from my position, I saw him coming around in front of the engine. I was determined not to be caught after having ridden so many miles in safety, so I left the steps quickly, walked to the engine, and drawing my handkerchief from my pocket, I began rubbing vigorously the brass rods and pipes on the side of the locomotive. When the officer stepped around the engine to where I was standing, he looked at me for a second and then asked me if I had seen a "bum" coming around that way. I told him that I had seen a fellow jump off the steps of the car only a second before and walk towards the rear of the train. Evidently he thought me one of the crew, the way I was working on that brass, for he beat it towards the rear of the coach in search of his man. Another moment's wait and we were again on our way. It was ten o'clock when we arrived at Jacksonville, and before I left the coal car, the dear old engineer with whom I had ridden all day, called me to him and handed me a quarter, with which to buy supper. I walked out of the big station into the streets and soon fell into a quarter restaurant, where I purchased supper and then began to hunt for a place to sleep. No one proved a good Samaritan, so I had to content myself with an empty box-car, but this was not as bad as one might imagine, for it was strewn with bits of hay, which I gathered up in a pile and made for myself a fairly comfortable bed. The next morning while walking down the main street of Jacksonville, wondering where my next meal was coming from, a gentleman stepped up to me and remarked, "Well, you look as though you might have slept in a hay barn, young man." At this I did not take offence, but smiled, telling him that I really had slept in the hay that night, and that I was now looking for a place to get something to eat. As luck would have it, he took me over to a fairly decent restaurant and bought me a steaming hot cup of coffee and breakfast. He sat there and chatted with me while I devoured my food, and when I had finished I thanked him most heartily for his kindness and bade him good-by. I hung around Jacksonville several days living on "hand outs" and sleeping at nights in the empty box-car.