Hawksley heard the panting of an engine and turned his head.

Dimly he saw a giant bridge and a long drab train moving across it.

He picked up the fallen man's cap and tried it on.

Not a particularly good fit, but it would serve.

He then trotted round the deckhouse to the street side, jumped to the wharf, and sucking the cracked knuckles of his right hand fell into a steady dogtrot which carried him to the station he had left so hopefully an hour and a half gone.
An accommodation train eventually deposited him in Poughkeepsie, where he purchased a cap and a sturdy walking stick.