We both took a drink, then the train jarred as it got under way and the stranger began to sing a song. The last of the chorus was,

“You get the hatchet and I’ll get the saw

And we’ll cut the legs off our mother in law.”

    Then he said, “We might just as well have another drink.” I drank just a little this time.
    “What road are we on?” I asked.
“Well sir, the initials on our private car are B K & E and the number of our stateroom is 17942,” he answered.
    “What do the letters stand for?” I asked.
    “Balsam, Kepevey and Erysipelas. The company just builds these cars for runaway husbands to make their escape from mother in laws.” Then he sang a few bars of the song in a maudling way and a short time later, was fast asleep. I laid down in the straw, which reeked of the odors of cows and stale liquor. I thought, “God makes the back for the burden.” The clicking of the wheels on the rails lulled me to sleep.
    I awoke with the queerest sensation that things had been happening in a dream. Where was I? Then it all came back to me. I got up stiffly and went to the door of the car. Looking out, I saw that the day was gloomy and gray. The train was moving fast as I could tell by counting the telegraph poles. As I stood there, my companion of the night moved, stretched and rubbed his eyes. Then he reached for the bottle at his side and took a long drink. He looked over at me and offered me a drink. I took a drink and sat down.
    “I have to get a bite to eat and some tobacco at the next stop this train makes,” the stranger said.
    I wondered how a man could be hungry after drinking so much of that stuff. He was a good mixer and seemed to be very happy as he sat there looking out of the car door, as he said, “his side door Pullman”. Suddenly he broke out, “You did not know that you were riding with a real author, did you?”