“It was all right,” said Norwood. “Some hobo got my boots on the train. He was one more slick customer. He took ’em right off my feet and I didn’t see him or hear him. Yeah, and I wisht I could get aholt of that sapsucker. He’d think boots. I wouldn’t care if it was the hobo king. It may of been the hobo king. He was plenty slick. Well, I’m not being serious there.”
“About what, the king?”
“They have a got a king. That’s right, this is no lie, I read this. They have got them a king just like England and France and he rules over every tramp in America just like…a king.”
Has anyone else here heard about this boxcar monarch? Is he in Bulfinch? I’m ready to swear allegiance to him right this second, I swear to gawd. Now taking applications for inclusion on a road trip to the Big Rock Candy Mountain.