The Vagabond stopped writing, leaned back in his chair, and gazed up at the queer stained-glass windows that lighted the Hall. He was tired of working at high speed, and the muscles of his right hand had frozen. He would rest a minute before putting the finishing touches on his essay. He took a hasty glance at his watch. Ten minutes of twelve. Why, in an hour and ten minutes he'd be boarding a train at South Station to carry him to the City and to this January's journey's end.

The Vagabond felt pleasantly stimulated as he swung down the platform to his car, and handed his valise to the porter. Examinations weren't so bad after all, be thought, but the best thing about them was their end. Might as well slip into the diner now, before it gets crowded, and get a bite to eat. Hmm! Not very hungry though, in spite of the work he'd been doing lately. Exams seem to take it out on your nervous system, more than anything else. Guess he'd let it go at a club sandwich, and fortify himself with something else later on in the afternoon.

Yes, a club sandwich is what it says, waiter. My, that was a pretty piece of femininity stepping down the aisle between the tables. He had not realized how long it was since he'd laid eyes on a beautiful girl. The tailored suit, the soft grey hat covering the source of a wave of yellow curls, were stunning. Oh, too bad, she'd stalked right by and sat down at another table. Well, he'd soon be in New York. Never mind!

The Vagabond finished his meal and strolled back to the Club Car. He loved to sit out on the observation platform and watch the world recede into the distance at the rate of sixty miles an hour. It gave him a feeling of going places, a thrill that comes from the sense of speed and the feeling that one is utterly helpless to do anything about it save be carried along. He let himself down into the little camp chair on the platform, pulled his coat tightly around his knees to keep off the chill gusts of wind, and relaxed.

Clackety-clack, clackety-clack! Clackety-clack, clackety-clack! The train was slowing down now, getting into Providence. Around the curves between the two hills of the city they swerved, and into the station. Queer place, Providence, the Vagabond thought. Old Roger Williams stood on top of the State House dome, gleaming in the sunlight. He was a man too good for Boston, and he'd had to leave. But under his effigy on the State House ruled men like Quinn and O'Hara. And they'd had a lot of trouble with a man named Dorr a hundred years ago, too.

Clackety-clack, clackety-clack! The train was moaning down the line now, headed for New London. They fairly sailed past the little old abandoned way-stations on the line, streaking into Connecticut and full view of the Sound. The water looked lovely today, all blue, with silver around the edges. From Stonington he looked across to Fishers Island, saw the great clubhouse standing out like a white elephant on the opposite shore. That was the house where they'd moved that girls' school a few years ago after its fire. It must be nice to be a schoolgirl, he thought, having nothing to worry about but keeping the rules and learning how to wear clothes and marrying some rich husband some day. More fun to be the rich husband, though.

Click-click! Click-click! They were putting on speed now. Shortly the train slowed to cross the Thames, and slide into New London Station. The Vagabond thought about the boat races. Then he let his eyes drift out over the harbor, which was darkning now as the sun moved west. Soon the train was moving again, steaming for New Haven.

At New Haven the Vagabond got up from his camp stool on the platform and went into the warm club car. He did not care for New Haven, somehow. He could read a magazine the rest of the way down.

He heard a voice barking papers on the platform. What paper were they calling? The voice sounded very close to his ears.

The examination will close in twenty minutes, gentlemen, the voice fairly sang.

Holy Smoke! The Vagabond looked at his watch. Five minutes to twelve. He'd have to hurry up if he wanted to get through in time to catch that train to the City.