2 P.M.
That Theresa laughed at him for a cattleman , while Goaty , in the kitchen , audibly observed that `` nobody but a Yankee would travel in a pig-pen , `` merely increased his joy in moving his belongings to a storage warehouse . Tuesday morning , clad in a sweater-jacket , tennis-shoes , an old felt hat , a khaki shirt and corduroys , carrying a suit-case packed to bursting with clothes and Baedekers , with one hundred and fifty dollars in express-company drafts craftily concealed , he dashed down to Baraieff 's hole . Though it was only eight-thirty , he was afraid he was going to be late . Till 2 P.M. he sat waiting , then was sent to the Joy Steamship Line wharf with a ticket to Boston and a letter to Trubiggs 's shipping-office : `` Give bearer Ren as per inclosed receet one trip England catel boat charge my acct . SYLVESTRE BARAIEFF , N. Y. '' Standing on the hurricane-deck of the Joy Line boat , with his suit-case guardedly beside him , he crooned to himself tuneless chants with the refrain , `` Free , free , out to sea . Free , free , that 's _ me ! _ '' He had persuaded himself that there was practically no danger of the boat 's sinking or catching fire .