Evening star., 1932-12-14
BY DANIEL ROBERT MAUE.


Two young hitch-sravelers. part Of
that tragic army Of homeless, migratory
youths who are rowing the continent.
arose tardily from the concrete floor
CT the town fail at Wayne. Pa.
Sleepily they donned their shoes,
then washed their faces at the water
tap. A strip of building paper hadn't
been much Of a mattress, but 1t was
clean. The boys had slept soundly
and were rested. Home, at Glendale,
Calf, was still thousands Of miles away.
The dozen others, young and old,
who had shared the floor were gone.
Hungry now the two laggardS went
into q nearby restaurant. Just . little
something to eat, perhaps?
The restaurant man grumbled some
thing about already having fed five
men that morning. Nevertheless he
produced coffee, bread-and- butter and
large pieces of two-day-old pie. The
late corners ate and then hurried to
the western outskirts of Wayne.
Fortunately, I happened along in my
little roadster. / had no need to invite
the two travellers to ride
Selling Magazines"
Names were not exchanged until the
end OF our ride. The transient young
er generation surprisingly often prefers
not being promiscuous with names, at
least, real names. However, the two
were Leslie Rhodes and Frank Mikkel-
son, with parental homes in Glendale.
They had been selling magazines" IN
Brookfyn-a bit Of fiction conkrived to
comfort fathers and mothers.
Leslie explained that they really had
been living through the philosophy, ASK
and We shall have" Going to Wayne,
they had learned from a garage man
that they might go to Jail for the
night"
As long as they could keep neat they
could expect to hitch by motor car.
They had no baggage, no funds. They
had vowed they would remain together.
But for my sometimes pointed ques-
tions the conversation drifted along in
friendly fashion. Finally 18-year-old
Franks dark head withdrew into the
collar OF his overcoat. He slept for
many miles, while Leslie, the senior by
three years, talked with me.
Yes. his father was still maintaining
an impoverished cleaning establishment.
Leslie could. perhaps, eventually work
into the business" Il don't want lot
Of money" he explained. I'D like to
be just well-to-do, decent business
man.
II aim to be married by the time I'm
23, only first I'd Ike to see some OF the
world Then I know I'll be content to
settle down. A lot Of people marry
today before they've settled down. and
then after they're married they fly 70
pieces and there's hell for everybody"
More Bewildering Case.
This philosoper admitted that after
$4,000 miles Of hitch travel he found
the edge off his enthusiasm for that
mode Of Life. When Frank awoke ne
told me he could not yet see beyond
should again become possible. His
thoughtfulness and silence told me that
the economies Of his history, as COM
pared with his companions, were the
more bewilderng.
I put them down in the square ct
Chambersburg, Pa. They Immediately
started for the westward outskirts OF
the city.
Il was growing dark when I climbed
the Alleghenies into Reels Corners.
When, once past the struggling build
ines Of the town the roadster was again
gathering headway, suddenly cut OIL
the power and pulled to the side OF the
road. Even in the poor light I had
recognized two young men laboring on
foot up the slope. They were familiar
faces from Times Square. New York.
Edward and Jonas (fictitous names
in leaving Bedford. Pa, had unwittingly
hitched to a local automobile. They
had consequently been left in the
sparsely settled region Of the noun
tains. They had no baggage, no money,
no overcoats. Had they walked farther
into the gathering dusk they could
hardly have expected lift.
Hotel Kept Luggage.
A small hotel in Freehold. N j., had
been forced to keep the travelling case
and bundles of these two sophisticated
transients They had registered there
only two nights earlier They had
been disappointed in the belief that
somehow they could raise the fee OF a
dollar However, that was neat way