He assented that, theoretically, it was the thing ... but there were a
multitude of practical difficulties that made for favour of the
convention of marriage....
"No, if a convention is wrong, it is the duty of everyone who knows the
right in his heart, to help smash that convention...."
"You just wait," I boasted imaginatively, "and I'll show you!" "Maybe,
Joe," I concluded, for I knew what I said would tease him, "maybe, when
I reach the East, I shall break loose." Then I added--and to this day I
cannot imagine what put it into my head to say it--what fantastic curl
of thought, unless perhaps a premonition of what was soon to come to
pass--
"Penton Baxter has invited me to pay him a visit at Eden, a Single Tax
Colony just outside of Philadelphia, before I go on to Europe via
cattleboat ... maybe I'll take him up, go down there, and run away with
his wife ... she's a mighty pretty woman, Joe!"
Joe was scandalised at my remark--the effect I had wished for.
* * * * *
But after the uproar broke, Joe stoutly maintained that our elopement
had all been a frame-up, alleging his conversation with me as proof ...
as who would have not?
* * * * *
Reduced again to my barest equipment, and having left as my forwarding
address the office of the _National Magazine_, in New York, I hopped a
freight shortly after dawn. It was a fast, through freight. Because of
lack of practice I boarded it clumsily, and almost went to my death
under its grinding, roaring wheels, there in the Laurel freight-yards. I
sat, trembling with the shock to my nerves, on the bumpers.