MRS. ROBERTS. Asleep!
CAMPBELL. Then _I_ am the right one.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, Willis! Willis! Willis! To think of our meeting in
this way! [She kisses and embraces him, while MR. ROBERTS shakes one of
his hands which he finds disengaged.] _How_ in the world did it happen?
CAMPBELL. Ah, I found myself a little ahead of time, and I stopped off
with an old friend of mine at Framingham; I didn't want to disappoint you
when you came to meet this train, or get you up last night at midnight.
MRS. ROBERTS. And I was in Albany, and I've been moving heaven and earth
to get home before you arrived; and Edward came aboard at Worcester to
surprise me, and--Oh, you've never seen the baby! I'll run right and get
him this instant, just as he is, and bring him. Edward, you be
explaining to Willis--Oh, my goodness! [Looking wildly about.] I don't
remember the berth, and I shall be sure to wake up that poor California
gentleman again. _What_ shall I do?
CAMPBELL. What California gentleman?
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, somebody we've been stirring up the whole blessed
night. First I took him for baby, and then Edward took him for me, and
then I took him for baby again, and then we both took him for you.
CAMPBELL. Did he look like any of us?
MRS. ROBERTS. Like _us_? He's eight feet tall, if he's an inch, in his
stockings--and he's always in them--and he has a long black beard and
mustaches, and he's very lanky, and stoops over a good deal; but he's
just as lovely as he can be and live, and he's been as kind and patient
as twenty Jobs.
CAMPBELL. Speaks in a sort of soft, slow grind?
MRS. ROBERTS. Yes.
CAMPBELL. Gentle and deferential to ladies?
MRS. ROBERTS. As pie.
CAMPBELL. It's Tom Goodall. I'll have him out of there in half a
second. I want you to take him home with you, Agnes. He's the best
fellow in the world. _Which_ is his berth?
MRS. ROBERTS. Don't ask me, Willis. But if you'd go for baby, you'll be
sure to find him.
MR. ROBERTS (timidly indicating a berth). I think that's the one.
CAMPBELL (plunging at it, and pulling the curtains open). You old Tom
Goodall!
THE CALIFORNIAN (appearing). I ain't any Tom Goodall. My name's Abram
Sawyer.
CAMPBELL (falling back). Well, sir, you're right. I'm awfully sorry to
disturb you; but, from my sister's description here, I felt certain you
must be my old friend Tom Goodall.
THE CALIFORNIAN. I ain't surprised at it. I'm only surprised I _ain't_
Tom Goodall. I've been a baby twice, and I've been a man's wife once,
and once I've been a long-lost brother.
CAMPBELL (laughing). Oh, they've found _him_. _I'm_ the long-lost
brother.
THE CALIFORNIAN (sleepily). Has she found the other one?
CAMPBELL. Yes; all right, I believe.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Has _he_ found what _he_ wanted?
CAMPBELL. Yes; we're all together here. [THE CALIFORNIAN makes a
movement to get into bed again.] Oh, don't! You'd better make a night
of it now. It's almost morning anyway. We want you to go home with us,
and Mrs. Roberts will give you a bed at her house, and let you sleep a
week.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Well, I reckon you're right, stranger. I seem to be in
the hands of Providence tonight anyhow. [He pulls on his boots and coat,
and takes his seat beside CAMPBELL.] I reckon there ain't any use in
fighting against Providence.
MRS. ROBERTS (briskly, as if she had often tried it and failed). Oh, not
the least in the world. I'm sure it was all intended; and if you had
turned out to be Willis at last, I should be _certain_ of it. What
surprises me is that you shouldn't turn out to be anybody, after all.
THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, it is kind of curious. But I couldn't help it. I
did my best.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, don't speak of it. _We_ are the ones who ought to
apologize. But if you only had been somebody, it would have been such a
good joke! We could always have had such a laugh over it, don't you see?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am, it would have been funny. But I hope
you've enjoyed it as it is.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, very much, thanks to you. Only I can't seem to get
reconciled to your not being anybody, after all. You _must_ at least be
some one we've heard about, don't you think? It's so strange that you
and Willis never even met. Don't you think you have some acquaintances
in common?
CAMPBELL. Look here, Agnes, do you always shout at the top of your voice
in this way when you converse in a sleeping-car?
MRS. ROBERTS. Was I talking loud again? Well, you can't help it if you
want to make people hear you.
CAMPBELL. But there must be a lot of them who don't want to hear you. I
wonder that the passengers who are not blood-relations don't throw things
at you--boots and hand-bags and language.
MRS. ROBERTS. Why, that's what they've _been_ doing--language, at
least--and I'm only surprised they're not doing it now.
THE CALIFORNIAN (rising). They'd better not, ma'am.
[He patrols the car from end to end, and quells some rising murmurs,
halting at the rebellious berths as he passes.]
MRS. ROBERTS (enraptured by his companionship). Oh, he _must_ be some
connection. [She glances through the window.] I do believe that was
Newton, or Newtonville, or West Newton, or Newton Centre. I must run and
wake up baby, and get him dressed. I shan't want to wait an instant
after we get in. Why, we're slowing up! Why, I do believe we're there!
Edward, we're there! Only fancy being there already!
MR. ROBERTS. Yes, my dear. Only we're not quite there yet. Hadn't we
better call your aunt Mary?
MRS. ROBERTS. I'd forgotten her.
CAMPBELL. Is Aunt Mary with you?
MRS. ROBERTS. To be sure she is. Didn't I tell you? She came on
expressly to meet you.
CAMPBELL (starting up impetuously). Which berth is she in?
MRS. ROBERTS. Right over baby.
CAMPBELL. And which berth is baby in?
MRS. ROBERTS (distractedly). Why, that's just what I can't _tell_. It
was bad enough when they were all filled up, but now since the people
have begun to come out of them, and some of them are made into seats I
can't tell.
THE CALIFORNIAN. I'll look for you, ma'am. I should like to wake up all
the wrong passengers on this car. I'd take a pleasure in it. If you
could make sure of any berth that _ain't_ the one, I'll begin on that.
MRS. ROBERTS. I can't even be sure of the wrong one. No, no; you
mustn't--[THE CALIFORNIAN moves away, and pauses in front of one of the
berths, looking back inquiringly at MRS. ROBERTS.] Oh, don't ask _me_!
_I_ can't tell. [To CAMPBELL.] _Isn't_ he amusing? So like all those
Californians that one reads of--so chivalrous and _so_ humorous!
AUNT MARY (thrusting her head from the curtains of the berth before which
THE CALIFORNIAN is standing). Go along with you! What do you want?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Aunt Mary.
AUNT MARY. Go away. Aunt Mary, indeed!
MRS. ROBERTS (running toward her, followed by CAMPBELL and MR. ROBERTS).
Why, Aunt Mary, it _is_ you! And here's Willis, and here's Edward.
AUNT MARY. Nonsense! How did they get aboard?
MRS. ROBERTS. Edward came on at Worcester and Willis at Framingham, to
surprise me.
AUNT MARY. And a very silly performance. Let them wait till I'm
dressed, and then I'll talk to them. Send for the porter. [She
withdraws her head behind the curtain, and then thrusts it out again.]
And who, pray, may _this_ be?
[She indicates THE CALIFORNIAN.]
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, a friend of ours from California, who's been so kind
to us all night, and who's going home with us.
AUNT MARY. Another ridiculous surprise, I suppose. But he shall not
surprise _me_. Young man, isn't your name Sawyer?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am.
AUNT MARY. Abram?
THE CALIFORNIAN. Abram Sawyer. You're right there, ma'am.
MRS. ROBERTS. Oh! oh! I knew it! I knew that he must be somebody
belonging to us. Oh, thank you, aunty, for thinking--