All the same I was something
near to tears as I thought of the tragic wreck at Willdon and the
grief-laden hearts that must be mourning. I wondered whether the
Governor was now returning from Willdon after ordering an inquiry.
On his card he had written: "Please release R. Mifflin at once
and show this lady all courtesies." So I didn't anticipate any
particular trouble. This made me all the more anxious to push on,
and after crossing the ferry we halted in Woodbridge only long
enough for supper. I drove past the bank where I had waited in the
anteroom, and would have been glad of a chance to horsewhip that
sneaking little cashier. I wondered how they had transported the
Professor to Port Vigor, and thought ironically that it was only
that Saturday morning when he had suggested taking the hoboes to
the same jail. Still I do not doubt that his philosophic spirit
had made the best of it all.
Woodbridge was as dead as any country town is on Sunday night.
At the little hotel where I had supper there was no topic of
conversation except the wreck.
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