Uncle John found the railway folder, put on his spectacles, and began to examine it.
"At my time of life," remarked Major Doyle, who was hale and hearty as a boy, "such a trip is a great undertaking." "Twenty-four hours to Chicago," muttered Uncle John; "and then three days to Los Angeles or San Francisco.

That's all there is to it." "Four days and four nights of dreary riding.

We'd be dead by that time," prophesied the Major.
Uncle John looked thoughtful.

Then he lay back in his chair and spread his handkerchief over his face again.
"No, no!" cried the Major, in alarm.

"For mercy's sake, John, don't go to sleep and catch any more of those terrible ideas.