its ending well that he hastened to meet the conclusion that should vindicate him. And as if the thought of Babbing were Babbing himself pursuing him, he only glanced behind at it, and then hurried the more, to reach the safe end of the adventure before he could be overtaken. He had been too long bored by the routine of subordinate work that had no thrill in it. Here was a bit of scouting on his own responsibility—with the chance of a little distinction, if he succeeded. The pursuing doubt of what would happen if he failed, only added the excitement of truancy.
He came to the ferry house of the Jersey Central Railroad, so close on the heels of his “subject” that he had to go ahead when the man stopped to buy more newspapers at the entrance. But inside the doors, Barney dawdled until he was behind again, and only closed up to see the suburbanite show a commutation ticket at the gates. Barney was ignorant enough to suppose that the ticket was a pass, because the gateman did not punch it; but he
