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I again tried to look at ease as Slim continued.

"Underneath, the brakemen can't see you except at stops. But bumpers are not too bad. I guess we'll take bumpers this time, to start you, seeing you're green to traveling, if there ain't an empty car we can get inside."

And then off east there was the deep, mellow hoot of the train whistling for curves, and I admit my heart accelerated its beats suddenly.

"We'll just be projecting ourselves up and down," said Hank, "so as not to attract attention with our bindles" (he always called his blanket-roll his bindle instead of bundle). "You sit there with the bindles, and Slim and I will slope along and try to look like residents till it's time to take her."

Blessed "her"! It humanized the train to give it sex! She came in, slowing down beautifully, the piston puff-puffing past, the heat of the locomotive over me in a gust where I sat on the three "bindles" while Hank and Slim were strolling casually and separately back and forth on the station platform.