Johnnie was a typical knight of the road. He believed that beds were for sick people in hospitals, that room rent was wild extravagance, and paying fare on the railroad nothing but ostentatious spending. He protested.

“Sanc, you’re not going to start paying fare?”

“Yes, I am, and I’ll buy you a ticket to California if you’ll come. Just look at the pleasure you would have beating your way from there back to your hometown in New Hampshire.”

“That’s the funny part of it,” said Johnnie. “My hometown is twenty miles off the railroad and I always have to pay fare on the stage going in and out.”

Back at Pocatello we paid Mary the borrowed money, and spent some in her place for interest. She gladly undertook to deliver the money we wanted to go to our friends at the prison, and we gave it to her, capable woman that she was, feeling as sure they would get it as if we were doing it ourselves.