Before leaving the ship at Jaffa I was talking with Mr. Ahmed, a gentleman from India, who had spent some time in Egypt, and had traveled extensively.  He claimed to be a British subject, and was able to speak several languages.  While we were arranging to go ashore together, one of the many boatmen who had come out to the ship picked up my suit-case while my back was turned, and the next thing I saw of it he was taking it down the stairs to one of the small boats.  By some loud and emphatic talk I succeeded in getting him to put it out of one boat into another, but he would not bring it back.  Mr. Ahmed and I went ashore with another man, whom we paid for carrying us and our baggage.  I found the suit-case on the dock, and we were soon in the custom house, where my baggage and passport were both examined, but Mr. Ahmed escaped having his baggage opened by paying the boatman an additional fee.  As we arrived in Jaffa too late to take the train for Jerusalem that day, we waited over night in the city from whence Jonah went to sea so long ago.  We lodged at the same hotel and were quartered in the same room.  This was the first and only traveling companion I had on the whole journey, and I was a little shy.  I felt like I wanted some pledge of honorable dealing from my newly formed acquaintance, and when he expressed himself as being a British subject, I mentioned that I was an American and extended my hand, saying:  “Let us treat each other right.”  He gave me his hand with the words:  “Species man, species man!” He meant that we both belonged to the same class of beings, and should, therefore, treat each other right, a very good reason indeed.  A long time before, in this same land, Abraham had expressed himself to Lot on a similar line in these words:  “Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my herdsmen and thy herdsmen; for we are brethren” (Gen. 13:8).  On Saturday we moved our baggage over to the depot and boarded the train for Jerusalem.  On the way to the depot an old gentleman, whom I would have guessed to be a German, passed me.  When I entered the car it was my lot to ride by him.  He learned that I had been to Bristol, England, and had visited the orphan homes founded by George Muller, and he remarked:  “You are a Christian, then.”  He probably said this because he thought no other would be interested in such work.  It developed that he was a converted Jew, and was conducting a mission for his people in the Holy City.  Without telling him my position religiously, I inquired concerning different points, and found his faith and mine almost alike.  This new acquaintance was D.C.  Joseph, whose association I also enjoyed after reaching Jerusalem.