I had travelled nearly two thousand miles,--from the foothills of the Andes, to be more definite,--and I had my papers, my cancelled contract, and a clear right-of-way, so to speak.

My personal belongings were supposed to have arrived in town on the train with me.

A couple of cow-hide trunks, in fact.

Well, they didn't arrive.

I don't know what became of them.