Being young I naturally got puffed up and superior. I looked wise and mysterious, said nothing, and connected only with the higher-ups among the knights of the road. Stepping out on the street one morning at Great Falls, Montana, an icy wind out of the north reminded me that winter had come. I was almost broke, and fearing a Montana winter without money, I made a dash for the coast. I traveled north through Lethbridge, at the Canadian line, and into Calgary, Alberta; then west over the Canadian Pacific toward Vancouver, where I hoped to spend the winter. The snow had piled up in the Selkirk range, delaying trains for days and making life on the road uncertain and very unpleasant. My money had dwindled till buying a ticket was out of the question. Riding the rods of passenger trains meant freezing, and I was forced to take the slow and infrequent freights with their open boxcars. At one of the larger towns in British Columbia I stopped off to rest up, get a decent night’s sleep, and thaw myself out.

In the office of the hotel I went to stood a safe that attracted me. It was of a make that George always favored, and we had beaten a half dozen of them in the two years we were together.