THE EXPRESS TICKET.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1510, 7 February 1901, Page 10

THE EXPRESS TICKET.

One of the pleasantest journeys I ever took was made in company with a total stranger, but who proved to be the most chatty, most, communicative person I ever met with, his code of morals was x ndoubtedly rather lax.. We got in at the London terminus, and as lie almost at once asked me where I was going, we found we were each bound to the same large city. I fancy lie had been dining rather generously, from his face, which" was a little flushed- > he had plenty of excellent cigars, and was very liberal with them ; and ere we had ridden half a dozen miles he produced a pack or cards and asked me to play. I declined : and he said, with a smile : VAfraid of stsange-rs with cards? Well, you are quite right, but "we shall do no harm to each other. I hastened to assure him that I was under no suspicion as regarded himself, but that I did not- care for cards.

“There you are to blame,” he returned ; “you should always suspect strangers who want you to-play at cards. Why should a man carry a pack with him if he does not intend to profit by their use ? Take my advice, and always be on your guard.” “But then,” I said, with a smile, “by your own rule you would lead me to suspect you.”

“You would not be far wrong if you did,” he replied, with a very meaning nod; “X only wish to play for a cup of coffee at the refreshment station; bat I have played in railway 7 carriages for very different stakes—and 1 won them. However. I am all right to-night, and don’t want to jyin anybody’s money. I cleared- £BOO over the Leger, and that will last me some time.”

I congratulated him on his good fortune, and said I wished I had been as lucky.

“If it shouldn’t do you more good than it will me, you needn’t mind,” he returned ; “light come, light go, but still it is better to have a, few hundreds in your pocket than to be without a penny to pay your fare, as I have- been on this very railway 7.”

'•lndeed!” I ejaculated, as he made a pause here; “there must have been very 7 awkward.”

“Awkward, I believe you,” he said. “But there, a man with his head screwed cn the right way need never be at a loss penny —at any rate, I hadn't a tenth part in a riche o untry like this. I hadn’t- a of the required fare—with me ; I was bound to keep an engagement a long way down the line, and I had not a friend who would lend me sixpence ; and here I found myself, one evening. a quarter of an hour before the train started. Something like a fix, eh ? What should you have done?” “Well,” I replied, “I hardly know. If I had a watch ”

“But I hadn’t,” he interrupted, “nor anything else that would fetch £2 7s, the price of a ticket. A first-class ticket, of course, I mean; I had made up my mind to ride first-class ; I like it best, and under the circumstances, it was just as feasible as any other.” '‘Then, perhaps, I should have gone to the statioirmaster -or superintendent,” I said “and told him all about it; and. if that wouldn’t do, I must have stopped in London.”

“Then it wouldn’t have done, you may swear,” he replied/ “stati-onmasters are net so soft as that. Well, now, I’ll tell you all about it; and it may be of use to you to know, some day. what is possible to be done in such a fix.” I nodded; my thanks, and he began : “I need not tell you how I came to be so placed—speculative men are often in such a position; we always get out of it somehow, however, and I did this time. When I arrived at the station, tnere was the train, with the engine waiting a little way off, blazing and: hissing away. Some of the passengers had taken their seats, but most of them were, walking; up and down, or having a parting glass with their friends, or looking at the bookstalls. How I envied the shabbiest of them. all. for he, whoever he was, had got bis ticket, and I could not get mine. If the train had gone right through I would have taken my seat, and chanced dropping out just before they stopped ; but I knew they examined tickets halfway, so; that would not do. If the journey had been all by the same engine, I would have lain on the hack of the tender, on the coke, as I once did to a place nearly 100 miles down the. line; but I knew they changed engines, so this, again, wouldn’t do. “I saw one person on the platform whom I recognised, but, as he was a clergyman —a dean, in fact—who was always preaching against us racing men, and bad once actually persuaded the townspeople to put their races down. I knew be was; of no use. Yet I couldn’t keep away from him ; he had a. sort of fascination for me ; I may call it, a presentiment that he was to get me out of my hobble. , , "'‘Well, tbe bustle increased ; you know, of course, how busy the station, gets just before the express starts? The engine

came back and was hooked on; the porters ran about with their barrows of luggage; the passengers left the refreshment rooms and the bookstalls, and clustered round the doors of the carriages ; the dean got into a compartment by himself, and there was I walking up and down in. the darkest part of the platform, and only five minutes left. “I paused, for a moment before a little room where I saw the guards go in and out, and wondered whether one oi the men would let me ride with him if >- told him of a good thing: I knew - really did know of it—for the Cambridgeshire, when all at once, a splendid idea struck me. It was the very thing! The door of the little room was half open, so that I could see no one was in there, and several coats and hats to the guards were hanging on the walls. I glanced down the platform,; every railway official seemed up fie his eyes in business —no one was looking that way. I popped into the room in an instant — had put on a coat and cap, which fitted me beautifully, and was out again in a few seconds. There was no time for reflection, nor did I need any; my mina was already made up; so pushing past thei people with the air of a. regular guard, born and bred, I put my head into the carriage where the dean sat, and said, ‘Tickets, if you please.’ The old gentleman vas reading, a book ; lie looked round, pushed his spectacles a little higher on his nose, and exclaimed, ‘Dear me! I had quite forgotten.’ He handed out his ticket, which I very coolly pocketed, and was moving away, when the old gentleman said, ‘This is a new rule to take tickets at starting, isn’t it ?’ “ ‘Yes sir,’ X answered, touching my cap; “only been in force this month, sir.’ “ ‘Oh,’ he said, and began reading Ins book again. “At- this instant the bell for starting rang, and the guards began to bawl out, ‘Anv more; going on ? ; but there was plenty of time for me. I dashed back to the little room, but., hang me! _ if there wasn’t a guard in there, _ feeling among the great-coats, and swearing horribly 'as I could l hear, at some of his mates for moving his particular coat out of its place. I stood' behind the long double ladder they wheel about to l clean the lamps, took off the poor fellow’s coat and cap, and flung them down by the door, put on my own cap, and hurried across the platform, as though I had just come from the refreshment room. The carriage doors were closed, but a guard, catching sight of me, shouted, ‘Now, shy this way, or you’ll be too late.’ “He opened a. door and pushed me ill just as the engine sounded its whistle, and the tug came which moved us on. I was in the carriage with the dean. There was nobody else there, as I well knew, and I really felt very uncomfortable. I didn’t at all suppose he would recognise me, but- there was a sort of feeling which made ms; wish that the guard had put me anywhere 'else. However, there was no help for it now, and I made up my mind to see at once if there was any danger of recognition; so the .first time he* put down his book, although it was only to* cut some leaves, I offered him a newspaper. He declined it, but I had obtained an opening, and 1 followed up my opening with a few remarks about the weather and so- forth —quite enough to let me see that he did. not at all remember my voice. I couldn’t sleep, but I pretended to do so, and on we went, scarcely another word having been spoken on either side, until the train slackened speed, and I knew we were near the station where they examined the tickets, and where, of course, the murder would be out. “When the carriage drew up alongside t-lie ticket- platform, and I could hear the familiar cry of ‘All tickets ready,’. I feigned' to be reading my paper very intently, although in reality I was watching; and listening with all my might. I saw the dean look up curiously, when he first heard the shouts ; he listened, too, with a puzzled air, and took off his spectacles and wiped them, as if that would help him to understand it. However, X have no doubt- he thought the notice did not apply to him, so- he calmly pub his glasses on again. “At that moment a guard-—a regular one, this time. I thought to myselflooked in, and of course said, 'Tickets, if you please.’ I gave him mine, which he merely glanced at and returned, and then I screwed myself into- a corner, as much out of the light as I could manage. The old clergyman had of course, done nothing. ‘Now, sir, if you please,’ said the guard.

“‘Eh?’ returned the dean, looking round, and pushing up his spectacles, which seemed to- be a habit with him.

" ‘Tickets, sir, tickets ; look alive, if you please, sir,’ answered the man. “ ‘Tickets, tickets!’ echoed the dean ; ‘mine is all right. I have given it up.’ ‘Not to; me, sir.’ said the guard, 'and no one else has been near this carriage.’ “ ‘Oh, but I gave it up before we started,’ explained the old gentleman. ‘lt is a new rule—ha.s only been in force a month.’

“Upon my word, 1 thought I should have burst with laughter here, the dean explained this so innocently. “ ‘New rule, sir,’ said the guard. ‘Nosuch. thing. We examine your tickets here and take them at your journey’s end.’ , . . “ ‘Now, Popkins’ shouted a superior or

some kind, ‘haven’t you finished with that carriage yet ?’

Come, sir, look sharp with that ticket,’ urged the guard. “ ‘What- da you mean ?’ demanded tbe clergyman, who was clearly get Ling angry. 'What do you mean, sir? I have given up my ticket to one of your men, and I am rather inclined to think itwas yourself/

‘-Pupkins was new shouted at again, very angrily, and his answer brought two or three others round the carriage. “‘Now, what’s all this delay about?’ said a man in a very swaggering tone (I suppose he was in some authority there), ‘‘What’s all this about, Pqpkinsr’ “ ‘Why,’ said the guard, ‘this party hasn’t- got- a ticket. He says he gave it up at London; and, not satisfied with that, says he gave it up to rne/ “ ‘Nay, nay, I am not certain about that,’ said the old gentleman. ‘I only say I gave it up to some guard who told me it was a new rule, and he was much such another man as yourself.’

•' ‘Oil, that won't do,’ said the chief officer, very harshly ; we must have your ticket- -or your money, or else we shall remove you from the carriage. We nave these games tried on us very often. ’ “ ‘Ho- you, indeed,’ said the oiu gentleman. ho you, inuee;l? There is my card, sin and I snail leave you to take your own course.’ “Well, when they saw who he was, they naturally cooled down a bit and grew more civil; but this time the other passengers had got anxious, and were putting them heads out of all the windows, and asking what was the matter

“ 'Perhaps this gentleman.’ said the guard, meaning, or course, myself, ‘who must have been m the carriage at the time, can tell us something about it. You didn’t give up your ticket, sir, because I have just examined it.” “Unfortunately/ said the dean, speak-ing-before 1 could answer, ‘this gentleman was nob in the carriage; he came in just as the train was starting, and after the collection of the tickets.’ “The men looked at one another, and I could see they did not believe the story at all.

“ 'I am afraid you are- under a great mistake,’ said the chief one; ‘and we shall be compelled to write t-oi .you for this money, if you do- not pay now. We can’t keep the train here all night, so you must do- as you please, as, or course, we have our remedy against you.’ “The old 1 gentleman looked angrier than ever, and, pulling out his purse, exclaimed :

“ 'There, sir, there is- your money ; but rely on it you will hear from Jessom and Jessom, my solicitors, sir, on the matter. It is an atrocious robbery.’ “ ‘You will have ycur ticket given you at the next station,’ said the other. ‘I will not delay the train by going to my office, now; X will send word on by hi© guard. But. depend; upon it, sir, you are in error ; you are, indeed. All right, both got out. I saw his carriage was forward.’

“‘Error, sir! Error!’ exclaimed the dean. ‘You shall see, sir; you shall see. I don’t care for your ticket. You may make me pay again, if you please, when I get to- my destination, t believe this company is capable of anything; but I will teach them, a- lesson. This gentleman shall be my witness of the transaction. I will take your card, sir.’ The men cleared from the window, for the engine whistle sounded, and off we went. ‘Oblige me with your card, sir, continued the dean. ‘I need hardly ask you if you ever saw -so nefarious a proceeding ?’ “‘Never, sir; absolutely scandalous!’ I replied. ‘But clo you think it will be worth your while to; take any further notice of it? It will involve you in a great; deal of trouble.’ “‘Trouble, sir.! What- do I care for that?’ demanded tne dean, indignantly. ‘lt is my duty to* expose such conduct ; and I will do- it. I will thank you for your card, sir,’ “I felt it would be dangerous to refuse a card; so I expressed my sympathy with him, and gave him the card of a foreign of my acquaintance, which I luckily had in my pocket. Then the old gentleman seemed to be brooding over his injury, and scarcely spoke another word. When we came to the refreshment station, the guard brought him his ticket, which he took without a syllable, and a.t our next station we waiting .for him; and I have no doubt that Mrs Dean had all particulars before an hour was over. As for my friend whose card I gave, I never heard whither the dean had tried to find him out or not; in fact, although I called him my friend we were by no means friend~ri

ly. You think the whole transaction rather fishy, eh?” ejaculated my companion, interrupting himself.

“I think it downright dishonest,” said X, frankly, “unless you repaid the dean.” ‘‘Oh, X did that,” responded he. “I sent the old gentleman a post-office order, in the name of my foreign friend. I'm a racing man, and up to a thing or two ; but I’m. as straight as a diet for honesty.’”—“Weekly IDispatch.”