“All right, thank you!” exclaimed Bob, going out into the street to hail the car that had been pointed out to him.

The porter stood on the curb, evidently with the intention of seeing that Bob got aboard without mishap, until turning his head he caught sight of the sharp-featured woman, whose comment he had overheard.

“Ma soul, Ah sure don’t want to get in any argument with such a woman,” he muttered to himself, and bolted precipitately, soon losing himself in the crowd of pedestrians.

The flight of the porter seemed to confirm the woman’s suspicions, but she instantly realized that she could not hope to overtake the darky, and quickly determined to hail Bob.

Rushing into the street, she cried in a shrill voice: 

“Little boy!  Little boy!”

Bob, however, had no relish for an interview with her, and quickly mounted the steps of the car and entered.

Again the woman repeated her cry, but Bob paid no attention, and it was with great relief that he heard the conductor pull the signal-bell for the car to start.

Determined not to be thwarted, the woman cried: 

“Mr. Conductor!  Mr. Conductor!  Stop that car!”

But that individual had developed a deafness as sudden as Bob’s and the car continued on its way.

For a moment the woman, her philanthropic intentions balked, stood on the car track, but realizing that she was making a spectacle of herself, she returned to the sidewalk, where the gibing comments of those who had witnessed the scene caused her to blush with anger, and she was glad to escape the words of advice that were called out to her by entering the doors of a convenient store.

As soon as Bob found that his escape had been effected, he returned to the platform.

“I’m glad you didn’t stop the car for that woman,” said he to the conductor.

“What’s the matter, are you running away from her?”

“No.  I never saw her before.”

“Then why did she call you to stop?” asked the conductor, his tone indicating that he thought perhaps Bob might have picked her pocket.

“I don’t know.  When I was walking along with that colored man, I heard her say she thought he was trying to take me somewhere I shouldn’t go.”

Bob’s evident lack of familiarity with Chicago and the circumstances under which he had boarded the car, aroused the conductor’s curiosity, and he inquired: 

“Well, was he?”

“No, he had just offered to show me about Chicago.”

And then Bob told enough of the story to convince the street-car man that there was nothing improper about the occurrence, and that he succeeded was evidenced by the comment of the conductor, as he said: 

“That’s just like some women, always meddling in things they don’t know anything about.  I’ll tell you when you get to 101st street.”

Bob was deeply interested in the scenes through which he was passing, and it seemed to him that he had scarcely been on the car ten minutes when the conductor told him he had reached the street he desired.