The Sleeping-Car | Page 9

be Willis,
he would think we were awfully stiff and cold. But I can't help it; I
_can't_ go attacking every stranger I see, and accusing him of being my
brother. No, no, I can't, and I _won't_, and that's all about it. [She leans
forward and addresses the stranger with sudden sweetness.] Excuse me,
sir, but I am very much interested by the name on your bag. Not that I

think you are even acquainted with him, and there are probably a great
many of them there; but your coming from the same city and all does
seem a little queer, and I hope you won't think me intrusive in speaking
to you, because if you should happen, by the thousandth of a chance, to
be the right one, I should be so happy!
CAMPBELL. The right what, madam?
MRS. ROBERTS. The right Willis Campbell.
CAMPBELL. I hope I'm not the wrong one; though after a week's pull
on the railroad it's pretty hard for a man to tell which Willis Campbell
he is. May I ask if your Willis Campbell had friends in Boston?
MRS. ROBERTS (eagerly). He had a sister and a brother-in-law and a
nephew.
CAMPBELL. Name of Roberts?
MRS. ROBERTS. Every one.
CAMPBELL. Then you're--
MRS. ROBERTS (ecstatically). Agnes!
CAMPBELL. And he's--
MRS. ROBERTS. Mr. Roberts!
CAMPBELL. And the baby's--
MRS. ROBERTS. Asleep!
CAMPBELL. Then I am the right one.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, Willis! Willis! Willis! To think of our meeting
in this way! [She kisses and embraces him, while MR. ROBERTS
shakes one of his hands which he finds disengaged.] How in the world
did it happen?
CAMPBELL. Ah, I found myself a little ahead of time, and I stopped
off with an old friend of mine at Framingham; I didn't want to
disappoint you when you came to meet this train, or get you up last
night at midnight.
MRS. ROBERTS. And I was in Albany, and I've been moving heaven
and earth to get home before you arrived; and Edward came aboard at
Worcester to surprise me, and--Oh, you've never seen the baby! I'll run
right and get him this instant, just as he is, and bring him. Edward, you
be explaining to Willis--Oh, my goodness! [Looking wildly about.] I
don't remember the berth, and I shall be sure to wake up that poor
California gentleman again. What shall I do?
CAMPBELL. What California gentleman?

MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, somebody we've been stirring up the whole
blessed night. First I took him for baby, and then Edward took him for
me, and then I took him for baby again, and then we both took him for
you.
CAMPBELL. Did he look like any of us?
MRS. ROBERTS. Like _us_? He's eight feet tall, if he's an inch, in his
stockings--and he's always in them--and he has a long black beard and
mustaches, and he's very lanky, and stoops over a good deal; but he's
just as lovely as he can be and live, and he's been as kind and patient as
twenty Jobs.
CAMPBELL. Speaks in a sort of soft, slow grind?
MRS. ROBERTS. Yes.
CAMPBELL. Gentle and deferential to ladies?
MRS. ROBERTS. As pie.
CAMPBELL. It's Tom Goodall. I'll have him out of there in half a
second. I want you to take him home with you, Agnes. He's the best
fellow in the world. Which is his berth?
MRS. ROBERTS. Don't ask me, Willis. But if you'd go for baby, you'll
be sure to find him.
MR. ROBERTS (timidly indicating a berth). I think that's the one.
CAMPBELL (plunging at it, and pulling the curtains open). You old
Tom Goodall!
THE CALIFORNIAN (appearing). I ain't any Tom Goodall. My name's
Abram Sawyer.
CAMPBELL (falling back). Well, sir, you're right. I'm awfully sorry to
disturb you; but, from my sister's description here, I felt certain you
must be my old friend Tom Goodall.
THE CALIFORNIAN. I ain't surprised at it. I'm only surprised I _ain't_
Tom Goodall. I've been a baby twice, and I've been a man's wife once,
and once I've been a long-lost brother.
CAMPBELL (laughing). Oh, they've found him. _I'm_ the long-lost
brother.
THE CALIFORNIAN (sleepily). Has she found the other one?
CAMPBELL. Yes; all right, I believe.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Has he found what he wanted?
CAMPBELL. Yes; we're all together here. [THE CALIFORNIAN
makes a movement to get into bed again.] Oh, don't! You'd better make

a night of it now. It's almost morning anyway. We want you to go home
with us, and Mrs. Roberts will give you a bed at her house, and let you
sleep a week.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Well, I reckon you're right, stranger. I seem to
be in the hands of Providence tonight anyhow. [He pulls on his boots
and coat, and takes his seat beside