Parnassus on Wheels · Chapter 5 (2/2)

I’m afraid I poorly concealed a yawn. As a matter of fact I was sleepy, and it was growing chilly.

“Tell me first,” I said, “where in the world are we, and what time is it?”

He pulled out a turnip watch. “It’s nine o’clock,” he said, “and we’re about two miles from Shelby, I should reckon. Perhaps we’d better get along. They told me in Greenbriar that the Grand Central Hotel in Shelby is a good place to stop at. That’s why I wasn’t anxious to get there. It sounds so darned like New York.”

He bundled the cooking utensils back into Parnassus, hitched Peg up again, and tied Bock to the stern of the van. Then he insisted on giving me the two dollars and eighty cents he had collected in Greenbriar. I was really too sleepy to protest, and of course it was mine anyway. We creaked off along the dark and silent road between the pine woods. I think he talked fluently about his pilgrim’s progress among the farmers of a dozen states, but (to be honest) I fell asleep in my corner of the seat. I woke up when we halted before the one hotel in Shelby⁠—a plain, unimposing country inn, despite its absurd name. I left him to put Parnassus and the animals away for the night, while I engaged a room. Just as I got my key from the clerk he came into the dingy lobby.

“Well, Mr. Mifflin,” I said. “Shall I see you in the morning?”

“I had intended to push on to Port Vigor tonight,” he said, “but as it’s fully eight miles (they tell me), I guess I’ll bivouac here. I think I’ll go into the smoking room and put them wise to some good books. We won’t say goodbye till tomorrow.”

My room was pleasant and clean (fairly so). I took my suitcase up with me and had a hot bath. As I fell asleep I heard a shrill voice ascending from below, punctuated with masculine laughter. The Pilgrim was making more converts!