CHAPTER XXIIIO Lily Sing Lee!
Myself and luggage stood on the station platform of red brick. The conductor, one hand upraised toward the engineer up front, was giving me final directions.
“Now you’re good for one hour and ten minutes stop-off here,” he said, “and your ticket, the way I’ve punched it, is good on Number 14, running daily from Kansas City to El Paso. And which’ll set you in El P tonight at 10:40—instead of 9:30. All aboard!” he added to nobody. And raised his hand. And swung aboard.
And I was left, punched ticket in hand, standing on the red brick platform, gazing at the long black-and-gold sign over the little frame depot, reading COMANCHE JUNCTION, OKLAHOMA. And with but 1 hour and 10 minutes in front of me—1 hour and 9 minutes now!
The fly-specked clock inside the litt
