valise along beside him, jerked himself toward the steps.

"Swipe me, if I ain't got a bite already!" said the Flopper to himself.
"An' outer a private car, too--wouldn't dat bump you! An' say, wait till
you see de Doc t'row up his dukes when he listens to me handin' out me
sterilized English!"

The brakeman and a kindly-hearted fellow passenger helped the Flopper
into the train--and thereafter for an hour or more, in a first class
coach, the Flopper held undisputed sway. The passengers, flocking from
the other cars, filled the aisle and seriously interfered with the
lordly movements of the train crew, challenging the conductor's
authority with passive indifference until that functionary, exasperated
beyond endurance, threatened to curtail the ride the Flopper had paid
for and put him off at the next station--whereat the passive attitude of
the passengers vanished. The American public is always interested in a
novelty, and on occasions is not to be gainsaid--the American public, as
represented by the patrons of the Bar Harbor express, was interested at
the moment in the Flopper, and they passed the conductor from hand to
hand--it was the only way he could have got through the car--and
deposited him outside in the vestibule to tell his troubles to the
buffer-plate.

The Flopper was in deadly, serious earnest; there was no doubt, no
possible room for doubt on that score--one had but to look at the flush
upon his cheeks and note the ring of conviction in his voice. Even Pale
Face Harry's gibes and sneers melted before the unshakable assurance,
and he became, with reservations, noticeably impressed.

A metropolitan newspaper man was struck with the idea of a humorous
series of articles to pay for his vacation, entitled, "Characters I Have
Met In Maine"--and forthwith, perched on the back of the seat behind the
Flopper, proceeded to sketch out the first one, with the mental
determination to get off at Needley for the local color necessary to its
climax.

A soap drummer nudged a fellow drummer whose line was lingerie.

"Ever do Needley?" he grinned.

The lingerie exponent had a sense of humor--he grinned back.

"My house is everlastingly rubbing it into me to open up new territory,"
said the soap salesman.

"Me too," responded the white-goods man.

"Needley," said he of the soap persuasion, "would be virgin soil for any
drummer."

"I'd like to see the finish," said the lingerie man--still grinning.

"Well?" in