On the Trolley Cloud.

As I stated at the end of the last chapter, the travelers Tom and his companions encountered upon the Trolley cloud were a wonderful lot. In the first place, the whole situation was strange. Here was, in fact, a perfect car, made of what at a distance looked to be nothing but a fleecy bit of vapor. It had seats and signs—indeed, the advertising signs alone were enough to occupy the mind of any person seeing them for the first time to the exclusion of all else, what with the big painted placard at the end, saying:

FOR POLAR BEARS GO TO ARCTICS
Fifty-seven Varieties.
No Home Complete Without Them.

Another showing a picture of Potted Town, in which all the inhabitants lived on canned food and things that came in jars, reading:

"Who on earth wants a Polar Bear at home?" ejaculated Tom as he read the first.

"I do," growled a deep bass voice at his side, and the little traveler, turning to see who it was that had spoken, was surprised and really startled to find himself seated next to a shaggy-coated beast of that precise kind. "I do," repeated the Polar Bear, "and if anybody says I don't I'll chew him up," and then he opened his mouth and glared at Tom as if to warn the young man from pursuing the subject further.

"So would I," put in Righty. "So would I if all the Polar Bears were like you."

The bear was apparently pleased by the compliment and, with a satisfied wink at Righty, folded his fore legs over his chest and went to sleep.

"I think I'll buy one of those lots in Potted Town," said a Kangaroo who sat opposite to Tom.

"You couldn't raise the money," growled a Flamingo who sat at the far end of the car. "Thirty cents is your measure."

"Let him alone, Flammy," said an Ostrich who was crowded uncomfortably in between the Kangaroo and an old gentleman with one eye and a green beard who, Tom learned later, was a leading citizen of Saturn. "He can't help it if he's poor."

"Thank you, Mr. Ostrich," said the Kangaroo, with a sob. "I was very much hurt by the Flamingo's remark. I have 19,627 children, and it keeps me jumping all the time to support them."

"I apologize," said the Flamingo. "My observations were most unjust. You do not look like thirty cents at all, as I perceive at second glance. As I look at you more closely you look like a $1.39 marked down to seventy-two. But why don't you get up and give the lady your seat?"

"Is there a lady on the car who wants it?" asked the Kangaroo, standing up, and peering anxiously about him.

"No, of course not," said the Flamingo, "but what difference does that make? A true gentleman is polite whether there are ladies present or not."

The Polar Bear opened his eyes and leaning forward glared at the Flamingo.

"You don't seem to be over-anxious about yourself," he growled. "Why don't you give up your seat to the imaginary lady?"

"Because, Mr. Bear," the Flamingo returned, "it would not be polite. The seat I occupy is extremely uncomfortable, thanks to the crowding of the Hippopotamus on my left and the indulgence in peanuts of the Monkey on my right. By sitting down where I am, I am making a personal sacrifice."

"There'll be a free fight in a minute," said the Poker, anxiously. "I think we'd better get out."

"You won't do anything of the sort," said the Conductor. "Nobody leaves this car until we get there."

"Get where?" demanded the Poker.

"Anywhere," returned the Conductor. "Fares, please."

"But we've all paid," said the Flamingo.

"Somebody hasn't," replied the Conductor. "There are twenty-two on this car and I've collected only twenty-one fares. I don't know who is the deadhead. Therefore you must all pay. It is better that there should be twenty-one lawsuits for a total damage of $1.25 than that this company should lose a nickel. Juries disagree. Fares, please."

"I decline to pay a second time," cried the Monkey.

"And I—and I," came from all parts of the car; from Lefty and Righty, from Tom, the Flamingo, the Hippopotamus and Polar Bear.

"Very well," said the Conductor, calmly. "I don't care. It isn't my money that's lost, but I'll tell you one thing, this car doesn't stop until you've all paid up!"

"What!" cried the Polar Bear. "I want to get off at the Toboggan slide."

"So do I—so do I," cried everybody.

"No doubt," said the Conductor; "but that's your business, not mine. Double your speed, Moty," he added, calling forward to the Motorman. "These people want to get off. Of course, gentlemen and fellow beasts," he continued, "I can't keep you from getting off, but this car is traveling at the rate of four miles a minute, and if you try it, you do so at your own risk. Fares, please."

"It's an outrage!" said the Flamingo.

"I'm going to jump," said the Kangaroo.

"I think we'd better sit still, Tom," whispered Righty. "It would be smithereens if we tried to get off the car going at this rate."

"Don't mind me," said Tom. "I'm having a bully time. This is quite as good fun as oscillating, I guess."

"Excuse me, sir," said the Conductor, in reply to the Kangaroo, "but I must ask your name and address. I cannot prevent you from jumping, but I'm required by the rules of the company to find out all about you before letting you commit suicide. We need the information in case your heirs sue the company. Married?"

"Yes," said the Kangaroo. "Sixteen times."

"Any children?" queried the Conductor.

"I have already said so," sobbed the Kangaroo; "19,627 of them."

"Boys or girls?" asked the Conductor kindly.

"Neither," replied the Kangaroo.

"What?" cried the Conductor.

"Kangaroos, every one of 'em," sobbed the unhappy passenger.

"O, I see," said the Conductor, "What is your business?"

"Jumping," replied the Kangaroo.

"Business address?" demanded the Conductor.

"Number 28 Australia," was the reply.

"Home address?" questioned the Conductor.

"Number 37 Melbourne," said the Kangaroo. "Melbourne is in Australia, you know," he added.

"Made your will?" put in the Conductor, suddenly.

"What has that got to do with it?" cried the Kangaroo, angrily, but with a nervous start.

"We cannot permit you to jump unless you've made a will," said the Conductor, politely. "You see, when you jump you leave the car, and we don't know whom you leave the car to until we have read your will. You might leave it to Tom or to Righty, or to the poetic Poker—or to old Shaggy over there,"—pointing to the Polar Bear. "Inasmuch as it's our car we have a right to know to whom you leave it."

"I guess I'll stay where I am," said the Kangaroo meekly, very much overcome by the Conductor's logic.

"That's the answer," returned the Conductor. "You seem to be a very sensible sort of Kangaroo. Fare, please!" And the Kangaroo, diving down into his pocket, produced a five-cent piece, which he handed over to the Conductor without further comment.

"Anybody else think of jumping off?" asked the Conductor pleasantly, turning about and glancing over the other occupants of the car.

"I might," said the Monkey, placidly.

"O, indeed," said the Conductor, walking along the car to where the Monkey sat. "You might think of jumping off, eh?"

"Yes," said the Monkey.

"Do you know where you would land?"

"Yes," said the Monkey.

"Where?" demanded the Conductor.

"On my feet," said the Monkey. "Where else?"

The Conductor was apparently much put out.

"You're pretty smart, aren't you?" he said.

"No," said the Monkey. "I'm only plain smart. I'm not pretty."

"Everybody's talking about you? I presume," sneered the Conductor.

"Not yet, but they will be," returned the Monkey, with a grin.

"When?" demanded the Conductor.

"When my tail is published," retorted the Monkey, with a grin.

"Humph!" jeered the Conductor. "Great tail that."

"No," said the Monkey, "not very great, but it has a swing about it—"

"Say," interrupted the Hippopotamus, "I've got an idea. Somebody hasn't paid his fare, eh?"

"That's the point," said the Conductor.

"And unless he owns up we've all got to go on in this car forever?"

"You have," replied the Conductor, firmly.

"Well, let's be sensible about it," said the Hippopotamus. "We're all honest—at least I am—and I've paid once, and I admit I'm riding cheap considering my weight. But who hasn't paid? Tom, did you pay?"

"I paid for our whole party," put in Righty.

"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "Did you pay, Monk?"

"Yes, I did," said the Monkey. "I paid for me and Polar Bear."

"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "Has the Flamingo paid?"

"I gave him a promissory note for my fare," said the Flamingo.

"Good," said the Hippopotamus. "And now for the main question. Conductor, have you paid your fare?"

"I?" cried the Conductor.

"Yes, you!" roared the Hippopotamus, "Have you paid your fare?"

"But—" the Conductor began.

"I won't but," returned the Hippo. "I'm a Hippopotamus, I am. Not a goat. Have you paid your fare?"

"Of course I haven't," returned the Conductor, "because—"

"That's it!" returned the Hippopotamus. "That's the whole point. He's the one that's shy, and because we won't consent to pay his fare out of our own pockets he's going to hold us up. I move we squash him."

"But I say," roared the Conductor.

"Oh, pay your fare and shut up," growled the Polar Bear, "You began the row. What's the use?"

"Hear 'em quoting my poem," whispered the Poker to Tom.

"I've taken his number," said the Flamingo. "It's eight billion and seven. He's trying to beat his way."

"Pay up, pay up," came from all parts of the car, and before he knew it Tom found himself in the midst of an angry group surrounding the Conductor, insisting that he should pay his fare.

"Who are you that you should ride free?" demanded the Flamingo. "The idea of servants of the company having greater privileges than the patrons of the road!"

"If you don't pay up right away," roared the Polar Bear, "I'll squeeze you to death."

"And I'll sit on you," put in the Hippopotamus.

"I haven't the money," cried the Conductor, now thoroughly frightened.

"Borrow it from the company," said the Polar Bear, "and ring it up."

This the Conductor did, and a moment later, having reached the station, rang the bell, and the car stopped.

"All out!" he cried, and the whole party descended.

"Who paid his fare, anyhow?" asked the Flamingo.

"I didn't," said the Monkey.

"No more did I," said the Hippopotamus. "The Kangaroo did, though. Didn't you, Kangy?"

"Only once," said the Kangaroo, "and that was the second time."

"Let's get away from this crowd," said the Bellows. "They're not honest."

"Right you are," said the Polar Bear. "They're a very bad lot. Come along; let's get aboard this toboggan, and leave 'em behind."

Whereupon Tom and his companions, accompanied by the Polar Bear, stepped aboard the waiting Oscycle, and were soon speeding down the upper incline of the Crescent Moon.