He took the boat to Amboy as Benjamin Franklin had done, but without mishap, and thence traveled by stage to Burlington.  There he met Mr. John Adams of Boston, who was on his way to Philadelphia.  He was a full-faced, ruddy, strong-built man of about thirty-five years, with thick, wavy dark hair that fell in well trimmed tufts on either cheek and almost concealed his ears.  It was beginning to show gray.  He had a prominent forehead, large blue and expressive eyes and a voice clear and resonant.  He was handsomely dressed.

Mr. Adams greeted the boy warmly and told him that the testimony which he and Solomon Binkus gave had saved the life of Captain Preston.  The great lawyer took much interest in the boy and accompanied him to the top of the stage, the weather being clear and warm.  Mr. Adams sat facing Jack, and beside the latter was a slim man with a small sad countenance which wore a permanent look of astonishment.  Jack says in a letter that his beard “was not composed of hair, but hairs as straight and numerable as those in a cat’s whiskers.”  They were also gray like his eyes.  After the stage had started this man turned to Jack and asked: 

“What is your name, boy?”

“John Irons.”

The man opened his eyes wider and drew in his breath between parted lips as if he had heard a most astonishing fact.

“My name is Pinhorn, sir—­Eliphalet Pinhorn,” he reciprocated.  “I have been visiting my wife in Newark.”

Jack thought it a singular thing that a man should have been visiting his wife.

“May I ask where you are going?” the man inquired of the boy.

“To Philadelphia.”

Mr. Pinhorn turned toward him with a look of increased astonishment and demanded: 

“Been there before?”

“Never.”

The man made a sound that was between a sigh and a groan.  Then, almost sternly and in a confidential tone, as if suddenly impressed by the peril of an immortal soul, he said: 

“Young man, beware!  I say to you, beware!”

Each stiff gray hair on his chin seemed to erect itself into an animated exclamation point.  Turning again, he whispered: 

“You will soon shake its dust from your feet.”

“Why?”

“A sinking place!  Every one bankrupt or nearly so.  Display!  Nothing but display!  Feasting, drinking!  No thought of to-morrow!  Ungodly city!”

In concluding his indictment, Mr. Pinhorn partly covered his mouth and whispered the one word: 

“Babylon!”

A moment of silence followed, after which he added; “I would never build a house or risk a penny in business there.”

“I am going to work in Doctor Benjamin Franklin’s print shop,” said Jack proudly.

Mr. Pinhorn turned with a look of consternation clearly indicating that this was the last straw.  He warned in a half whisper: 

“Again I say beware!  That is the word—­beware!”