“I’ll show you! I’ll show you I’m telling the truth! You’re gonna sit right there until that woman and her pony comes out.”

“But I gotta pee!” I said. “I mean, I really got to, sir.”

“Well, you ain’t leaving here,” he said. “Not until you see I’m telling the truth.”

Well, sir, I just didn’t know what to do. I just didn’t know. Maybe you would have, but I didn’t.

All my life, I’ve been just as friendly and polite as a fella could be. I’ve always figured that if a fella was nice to everyone, why, they’d be nice to him. But it don’t always work out that way. More often than not, it seems like, I wind up in a spot like I was in now. And I just don’t know what to do.

Finally, when I was about to let go in my britches, the conductor came through taking up tickets, and I had a chance to get away. I tore out of there in such a hurry that it was maybe a minute before I could get the door open to the next car. And I heard a burst of laughter from the rest room behind me. They were laughing at me, I guess—the conductor and the man in the checked suit. But I’m kind of used to being laughed at, and anyway I didn’t have time to think about it right then.

I dashed on up into the next car and relieved myself—and believe me it was a relief. I was coming back down the aisle, looking for a seat in that car so’s I wouldn’t run into the checked-suit fella again, when I saw Amy Mason.

I was pretty sure that she’d seen me, too, but she let on that she didn’t. I hesitated by the seat next to her for a minute, then braced myself and sat down.

No one knows it in Pottsville, because we were careful to keep it a secret, but me and Amy was mighty thick at onetime. Fact is, we’d’ve got married if her Daddy hadn’t had such strong objections to me. So we waited, just waiting for the old gentleman to die. And then just a week or so before he did, Myra hooked me.

I hadn’t seen Amy since except to pass on the street. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, and try to explain things to her. But she never gave me the chance. Whenever she saw me, she’d toss her head and look away. Or if I tried to stop her, she’d cross to the other side of the street.

“Howdy, Amy,” I said. “Nice morning.”

Her mouth tightened a little, but she didn’t speak.

“It’s sure nice running into you like this,” I said. “How far you ridin’, if you don’t mind my asking?”

She spoke that time. Just barely. “To Clarkton. I’ll be getting ready to leave any moment now.”

“I sure wish you was riding further,” I said. “I been wanting to talk to you, Amy. I wanted to explain about things.”