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 CHAPTER XIV

IN THE "TRAIN DE LUXE"—THE SUPREME GOOD FELLOWSHIP OF ENGLISH LAUGHTER—JOURNEYING TOWARDS THE CRADLE OF NEW TURKEY

It was well past ten when I woke next morning. Though the sun was blazing through the uncurtained windows, I had slept undisturbed.

A Battle Royal with my Tangled, Dusty Hair.

There had, of course, been no chance of "undressing for the night." But I had been able to take off my boots, and having a whole compartment to myself, I was only too glad to take out my wire brush for the