"No need to apologize to me! More to-- that fellow up yonder."

Aforementioned fellow meaning the bus driver, meaning the man with the perpetual unimpressed scowl and, he'd be willing to wage, the meanest eyebrows this side of the Pacific. Following only took the brown-haired man so far, however; by the end of the seat aisles, he'd hang back, voice turning into an unsubtle whisper toward the other. A makeshift good luck asking, perhaps.

"I think his name's Jameston."

The fellow's name definitely wasn't Jameston.