see, the trouble is that we've got all this baggage to lug 'round, when
it's about as much as we can do to get along ourselves."

"Why don't you leave the things somewhere? You never can find the man
that owns 'em, even if you carry them all the way back to New York,"
said little Ned, sensibly.

" That's so, bub," said Joe, "but all the same, you see he told me to
take care of them, an' I've got to do it, or else they'll blame me at
the office."

Just then an express wagon passed, which suggested to Joe a very simple
way of disposing of his burden.

"I'll tell you what we can do," he said, as he started to his feet
quickly, while his face lighted up with pleasure at the idea. " We'll
walk along until we come to an express office, an' then we'll just send
the valises on to where I work. I know we can do that, for last week
somebody sent two trunks there, an' the manager had to pay the bill for
bringing them."

Unfortunately, it never occurred to Joe that it also would be possible
to get money sufficient to pay for the passage .home by telegraphing to
the manager of the office.

"We've got a dollar," he said, as they trudged along, the valises
seemingly growing heavier each moment, "and jest as soon as we get rid
of these we'll get something to eat."

At the express office the clerk took the baggage and gave Joe a receipt