"They've called out the police.

Any one who wants to run a car will be protected all right." "You don't know how to run a car," rejoined the voice.
"I won't apply as a motorman," he answered.

"I can ring up fares all right." "They'll want motormen, mostly." "They'll take anybody; that I know." For several hours he argued pro and con with this mental counselor, feeling no need to act at once in a matter so sure of profit.
In the morning he put on his best clothes, which were poor enough, and began stirring about, putting some bread and meat into a page of a newspaper.

Carrie watched him, interested in this new move.
"Where are you going ?" she asked.
"Over to Brooklyn," he answered.

Then, seeing her still inquisitive, he added: "I think I can get on over there." "On the trolley lines ?" said Carrie, astonished.
"Yes," he rejoined.
"Aren't you afraid ?" she asked.
"What of ?" he answered.