CAMPBELL.  I hope I’m not the wrong one; though after a week’s pull on the railroad it’s pretty hard for a man to tell which Willis Campbell he is.  May I ask if your Willis Campbell had friends in Boston?

MRS. ROBERTS (eagerly).  He had a sister and a brother-in-law and a nephew.

CAMPBELL.  Name of Roberts?

MRS. ROBERTS.  Every one.

CAMPBELL.  Then you’re—­

MRS. ROBERTS (ecstatically).  Agnes!

CAMPBELL.  And he’s—­

MRS. ROBERTS.  Mr. Roberts!

CAMPBELL.  And the baby’s—­

MRS. ROBERTS.  Asleep!

CAMPBELL.  Then I am the right one.

MRS. ROBERTS.  Oh, Willis!  Willis!  Willis!  To think of our meeting in this way! [She kisses and embraces him, while MR. ROBERTS shakes one of his hands which he finds disengaged.] How in the world did it happen?

CAMPBELL.  Ah, I found myself a little ahead of time, and I stopped off with an old friend of mine at Framingham; I didn’t want to disappoint you when you came to meet this train, or get you up last night at midnight.

MRS. ROBERTS.  And I was in Albany, and I’ve been moving heaven and earth to get home before you arrived; and Edward came aboard at Worcester to surprise me, and—­Oh, you’ve never seen the baby!  I’ll run right and get him this instant, just as he is, and bring him.  Edward, you be explaining to Willis—­Oh, my goodness! [Looking wildly about.] I don’t remember the berth, and I shall be sure to wake up that poor California gentleman again. What shall I do?

CAMPBELL.  What California gentleman?

MRS. ROBERTS.  Oh, somebody we’ve been stirring up the whole blessed night.  First I took him for baby, and then Edward took him for me, and then I took him for baby again, and then we both took him for you.

CAMPBELL.  Did he look like any of us?

MRS. ROBERTS.  Like us?  He’s eight feet tall, if he’s an inch, in his stockings—­and he’s always in them—­and he has a long black beard and mustaches, and he’s very lanky, and stoops over a good deal; but he’s just as lovely as he can be and live, and he’s been as kind and patient as twenty Jobs.

CAMPBELL.  Speaks in a sort of soft, slow grind?

MRS. ROBERTS.  Yes.

CAMPBELL.  Gentle and deferential to ladies?

MRS. ROBERTS.  As pie.

CAMPBELL.  It’s Tom Goodall.  I’ll have him out of there in half a second.  I want you to take him home with you, Agnes.  He’s the best fellow in the world. Which is his berth?

MRS. ROBERTS.  Don’t ask me, Willis.  But if you’d go for baby, you’ll be sure to find him.

MR. ROBERTS (timidly indicating a berth).  I think that’s the one.

CAMPBELL (plunging at it, and pulling the curtains open).  You old Tom
Goodall!

THE CALIFORNIAN (appearing).  I ain’t any Tom Goodall.  My name’s Abram
Sawyer.