"This  is  hell,"  said  Whitey.    "My  God!  it's  hell/'
"But  let's  stick  it  out,  Whitey,  if  they  haul  us  in  there
dead."

"Sure,"  replied  the  Jewish  lad,  "I'm  game."
Lashed  to  the  iron  ladders,  the  children  of  two  suffer
ing  races  were  equal  to  the  misery  of  the  ride.  The  cold
settled  down  heavily.  In  order  to  keep  from  freezing
they  kicked  their  feet  against  the  iron  ladders,  and  moved
their  shoulders  like  pugilists  loosening  up  their  muscles
before  a  battle.
On,  on,  the  train  sped,  past  prairie,  hamlets,  and  snow-
white  fields.    Emmett  recalled  the  tramp  he  had  known,
who  rode  into  a  station  with  hands  clutched  about  the  iron
ladder,  an  empty  whisky  bottle  in  his  pocket,  and  a  frozen
leer  upon  his  face.    His  body  was  stiff  and  cold,  and  it
never  thawed  back  into  life.     The  recollection  stirred
Emmett,  and  he  yelled  to  Whitey,
"Remember  Freddie  Mansfield?"
"I  was  just  thinkin'  about  him,  poor  devil!"  replied
Whitey.
When  the  train  reached  the  station  in  Chicago,  the  boys


THE  LiURE  OF  HOME  277

were  too  numb  to  walk  at  first,  then  slowly  made  their
way  to  the  station,  and  out  into  the  street  and  across  to
a  friendly  saloon,  where  warm  water  and  soap,  and  warm
liquor  revived  them.
BATTLE  GALORE

A  FAMOUS  prize  fight  was  to  take  place  within  five  blocks
of  the  Newsboys*  Home.  Through  a  friend  of  Vivian's
who  had  but  recently  returned  from  Cuba,  Emmett  was
engaged  as  an  usher,  and  was  to  receive  two  dollars  for
his  work,  and  a  chance  to  see  the  fight.
