It is Mexico for mine." "I suppose you have the price ?" laughed Nestor.
"I haven't got carfare to Brooklyn," was the laughing reply, "but that don't count with me.

I guess I know something about traveling without money." Having thus arranged for the care of the unconscious man, and tried to console Jimmie for his great disappointment, Nestor and Fremont left the big building, seeing, as the latter supposed, no one on their way out.

As they turned out of the Great White Way, still blazing with lights, directing their steps toward the East River, Fremont turned about and glanced with varying emotions at the brilliant scene he was leaving.

He was parting, under a cloud, from the Great White Way and all that the fanciful title implied.

He loved the rush and hum of the big city, and experienced, standing there in the night, a dread of the silent places he was soon to visit under such adverse conditions.
He loved the forest, too, and the plains and the mountains, but knew that the burden he was carrying away from the Cameron building would hang upon him like the Old-man-of-the-Sea until he was back in the big city again with a name free from suspicion.