my mind that I could make no headway in a Government penitentiary; that my debts, which I was desirous of paying, must stand indefinitely and I questioned that I could ever settle them at all, while my family must go without my care and support. Outside prison walls, I would soon be enabled to square up everything, and at the same time, give to my family the protection it demanded and furnish the necessaries of life. This I wanted to do in America, but if forced to do so, I believed that it could be done elsewhere. However, after debating the subject with myself pro and con, I decided that my only hope was in Mr. Heney, and that I must call on him without further delay.
Settling my bill at the boarding house, I purchased a ticket for San Francisco over the Santa Fe route, via St. Louis and Kansas City, leaving New York City on May 11th, 1906, and arriving at Point Richmond, on San Francisco bay, on the evening of the 15th.
As the train was late in arriving, and accommodations, on account of the recent earthquake in San Francisco, were difficult to secure, the Pullman conductor informed his passengers that they might occupy their berths until the following morning.
Remaining in the car, as I did not care to venture home that night, lest it was being watched, I arose early on the following morning and my first thought was to learn if Mr. Heney was in the city, and if so, to reach him by 'phone. It was not my intention to talk with him personally, but to reach him by process of some friend, through whom I might learn if he was in the city. I spent something like half a day in this effort, but could do nothing, as the telephone system was completely demoralized.
I then took the car for Alameda, going through Oakland, where I walked through the streets crowded with refugees from San Francisco, arriving at Alameda about 1:30 p. m. and going direct to the Park Hotel, which was the only hotel in the city. Here I engaged a room and registered under an assumed name.
After eating luncheon in the hotel cafe, I went to the main office of the telephone company and called up my home, the telephone being answered by one of my little boys, who inquired what was wanted. As I recognized the voice as that of the one who owned a lot of pigeons, I asked him, in a muffled tone, if he had any squabs for sale. I did not care to risk his recognizing me at this time, as little fellows, in their enthusiasm, will sometimes talk too much.
Being informed that he had a number of squabs and that they were for sale, I made an appointment with him for that evening at 8:30, requesting him to meet me at a certain point in West Berkeley, which he said he would do and I hung up the receiver.
Returning to my room, I passed the time in reading accounts of the recent disaster in San Francisco and at the appointed time, I met my son. As I had not seen the little fellow for something like six months, he passed me on the street corner without recognition, but had gone but a few paces when I stopped him with the inquiry as to why he should pass his father in that manner. The lad paused for a second, and- when he realized that it was really me, bounded into my arms. His joy was unbounded, and it was with difficulty that I could restrain him from crying aloud in his demonstration of affection and pleasure.
After quieting the lad. I told him that it was none other than myself who had 'phoned about the pigeons, and now that he had kept his appointment, I had still another and more important duty for him to perform.
The little fellow was willing, so I instructed him to inform his mother that I had returned, both safe and sound, and that I was waiting to see her at the same place where I had met the boy. I cautioned him not to speak of the incident in the presence of his sisters or brothers, or any one else, but to take his mamma upstairs and deliver the message where no one else would hear.
He was off at once, and, as there were but eight blocks to go in reaching home, it was but a short time before he came back with his mother, both arriving Page 269
