Part 22 (1/2)

”It's going to be quite a trip,” said Roger, as he settled back to gaze at the swiftly-moving panorama of fields covered with snow.

”Yes, and we are going to journey from winter into summer,” added Phil.

”It's good we remembered that when we packed our suit-cases. At first I was going to put in nothing but heavy clothing.”

”I am glad we heard from Luke,” said Dave. ”That gives us a little to work on. I hope the _Emma Brown_, or whatever her name may be, hasn't sailed yet.”

”Won't Merwell and Jasniff be surprised if we do locate them?” said the senator's son. ”I suppose they think we are at home.”

The car was only half-filled with pa.s.sengers, so the boys and Dunston Porter had plenty of room, and they moved around from one seat to another. So the time pa.s.sed quickly enough, until they rolled into the Grand Central Station, in New York.

”Well, little old New York looks as busy as ever,” was Phil's comment, as they stepped out on the street. ”Are we to transfer to Jersey City at once?”

”Yes,” answered Dunston Porter. ”We'll take the subway and the river tube, and get there in no time.”

Riding through the tube under the Hudson River was a new experience for the lads and they rather enjoyed it. The train of steel cars rushed along at a good rate of speed, and almost before they knew it, they were in New Jersey and being hoisted up in an elevator to the train-shed.

”Coast Line Express!” was the cry at one of the numerous gates to the tracks, and thither the party hurried. Willing porters took their baggage, and a minute later they found themselves in an elegant Pullman car. Dunston Porter had telegraphed ahead for sleeping accommodations, and they had two double seats opposite each other, directly in the middle of the car.

”All aboard!” sang out the conductor, about ten minutes later, and then the long train rolled slowly from the big train-shed, and the trip to Florida could be said to have fairly begun.

”Do we go by the way of Philadelphia and Was.h.i.+ngton?” asked Phil, who had not taken the time to study the route.

”Yes,” answered Dunston Porter. ”Here is a time-table. That will show you the whole route and tell you just when we get to each place.”

”Will we have to make any changes?” asked Roger.

”None whatever.”

Soon the train had left Jersey City behind and a little later it stopped at Newark, and then sped on towards Philadelphia. By this time it had grown too dark to see the landscape and the boys and Dunston Porter retired.

On and on through the long night rolled the train, keeping fairly close to the Atlantic sea-coast. With nothing to do, the boys did not arise until late in the morning. They found Dave's uncle in the lavatory ahead of them, indulging in the luxury of a shave with a safety razor.

”Well, how are you feeling?” asked Dunston Porter.

”Fine!” cried Dave.

”Couldn't feel better,” added the senator's son.

”Ready for a big breakfast?”

”I am,” answered Phil, promptly. ”Gracious, but traveling makes me hungry!”

They had to wait a little before they could get seats together in the dining-car and they amused themselves by gazing at the settlements through which they were pa.s.sing. Here and there were numerous cabins, with hordes of colored children playing about.

”This is the Southland, true enough,” observed Dave. ”Just see how happy those pickaninnies seem to be!”

”Yes, one would almost envy their care-free dispositions,” answered Dunston Porter. ”Their manner shows that it doesn't take money to make one happy.”

They had pa.s.sed through Richmond and were now on their way to Emporia.

It was growing steadily warmer, and by noon all were glad enough to leave the car and go out on the observation platform at the end of the train.