He was glad of that, so long as he was not so alone as to be conspicuous.
Aside from the thin sprinkling of passengers, everything was just as the boy had told him.

He was ferried in a big, empty boat across the darkling bay to the train that stood backed down on the mole waiting for him and the half dozen other passengers.

He chose the rear seat in another chair car very much like the one he had left, gave up his ticket and was tagged, pulled his hat down over his nose and slept again, stirring now and then because of his cramped legs.
When he awoke finally it was daylight, and the train was puffing into a tunnel.

He could see the engine dive into the black hole, dragging the coaches after it like the tail of a snake.

When they emerged, Jack looked down upon a green-and-white-scurrying river; away down--so far that it startled him a little.