STEALING A RIDE--KICKED OUT BY THE BRAKEMAN.
ARCHIE was dumbfounded. Never before had he been among such a motley
crowd, and his first impulse was to turn and run. But on second thought
he decided that it would be best to put on a bold face and walk up to
the men. This he did, and when he reached the fire the men jumped up and
asked him who he was. In a few words he told them his simple story, and
they all laughed and sat down again about the fire, making a place for
him. “You’re one of us, then, laddie,” said the leader of the gang.
“We’re all soldiers of fortune, all dependent upon the generous public
for our livelihood. But we’re not goin’ to the city. There’s nothin’
there for us, and our advice to you is for you to steer clear of the
place, too. Them police takes ye and throws ye into jail as quick as
a wink, and there’s no chance of gettin’ anythink to eat at basement
doors, neither. They’re all on to us, there, laddie, and ye’d better
stick to the country.”
This bit of advice was endorsed by the entire company, and it was in
vain that Archie tried to make them understand that he was no ordinary
tramp, walking about the country in search of an easy time. He tried
to tell them that he was going to the city to work, not to beg; but the
leader, a big, dirty fellow, weighing two hundred pounds or over, said,
“Never mind, laddie, we knows you’ve run away from home to get away from
the folks, and we appreciates yer position. If yer a mind to stand by
us, we’ll stand by you, and see thet ye comes to no harm.”
On thinking things over, Archie decided that it was perhaps the wisest
thing for him to appear to sympathise with the tramps, and make himself
agreeable while with them. He had undoubtedly run into a gang of the
worst sort of vagabonds, and there was no way of getting away from there
without arousing their suspicions. So he partook of their slender meal,
and joined in the general laughter when the leader, “Fattie Foy,” made
some crude attempt at punning. The meal was one to be remembered. The
coffee had been heated in an empty tomato can over the fire, and from
its taste was evidently a combination of various collections made from
the farmhouses round about. Besides the coffee there was a various
collection of sandwiches and bread and butter, and two pieces of cake.
One man had succeeded in striking a good house, and came back laden with
pickles and crackers and cheese, which were probably the remains of some
picnic basket. Another fellow had brought some pieces of cold bacon,
and these were warmed on sticks over the fire until they looked really
appetising. From some barn had come a half-dozen fresh eggs, and these
were quickly boiled in a can of hot water, and made a very fair showing
on the slab of granite which served as a table.
When everything was ready the provisions were equally divided among the
crowd, and every one shared alike. It made no difference how much more
one man collected than another, it was always shared with the entire
crowd. Poor Archie found it almost impossible to eat, but the men
insisted that he take something, so he did manage to swallow a few sips
of coffee and eat a slice of bread and butter. But as he looked about
him at the dirty hands and faces, and the filthy garments of the tramps,
he determined not to eat again while with them.
When the meal was over the two tin cans were washed at a spring of
water, and as it was now quite dark, they all sat close to the fire, in
order to see. Some one produced a pack of dirty cards, and they began a
game of some kind. Archie was asked to join, but he told them he didn’t
know anything about card-playing. The poor lad was beginning to wish he
had never left home, and felt more miserable than at any other period
of the journey. He walked over to a corner of the ruins where the light
from the fire did not penetrate, and, once there, he sat down and sobbed
bitterly for a time. When he had finished crying it seemed impossible
for him to sleep. The scene about the fire fascinated him. The men were
seated in every sort of picturesque attitude, and as the flickering
light fell upon their dark faces it wasn’t hard for the poor lad to
imagine that he had fallen among a crowd of brigands. He watched them as
they played until he could see no longer, and then he fell into a sound
sleep.
When Archie woke it was still dark, but the moon was shining brightly
overhead, making everything as light as day. He rubbed his eyes and sat
up, and it was some time before he could realise where he was. Then, as
he saw the tramps lying about the ground, he remembered his adventures
of the night before, and, horrified that he had allowed himself to
sleep, he hastily jumped up, and determined to get away from the ruins
as quickly as possible. The tramps were all sleeping soundly, and
the only noises to be heard were the sound of their breathing and
the blood-curdling hoot of some owl perched on the pillars of the old
portico. The boy picked his way carefully between the bodies of the
sleeping men, and in a minute stood once more on the grand flight of
steps outside. He was trembling for fear some tramp would awake and
prevent his going, and when a bat brushed him in its flight he almost
screamed with terror. Far out beyond the trees and the shrubby he could
see the road glistening in the moonlight, and he made his way as rapidly
as possible out of the grounds, and was once more on his way to the
city.
It was lonesome work, walking along a country road at night, and
Archie remembered with longing his cosy bed at home. The feeling of
homesickness kept growing within him, despite his efforts to down it,
and when at last the glorious autumn sun rose over the eastern horizon
he was miserable with longing for mother and for home. But he was too
proud to even think of turning back. He must reach the city at all
hazards, homesick or not.
Archie did not think of breakfast this morning. His experience of the
night before seemed to have taken away his appetite entirely, and his
only thought was to walk as fast as possible, so that he could reach the
city soon. About nine o’clock he entered the outskirts of a busy town,
and while there he observed that the railroad going to the city passed
through the place. All at once a new idea occurred to him. He had so
often heard men and boys tell of how they had stolen a ride from one
town to another. Why shouldn’t he be able to get a ride on a freight
train to the city. Would it be wrong? Archie thought not, since so
many men did it. And anyhow it didn’t seem a wicked thing to cheat the
railroad. He had heard people say that the company ought to be cheated
whenever possible, since it cheated so many others. So, from being so
tired and so anxious to reach New York, Archie decided to try and steal
a ride. He entered the yards, where a train was being made up for the
south, and there he saw a cattle-car with an open door. He immediately
jumped inside and shut the door, squeezing himself into the farthest
corner, hoping that he wouldn’t be discovered. He soon found that he
wasn’t alone, for a couple of tramps were in the opposite corner, and
they whispered to him not to make any noise. “The brakie,” they said,
“will soon be ‘round, and if he finds ye he’ll put us all in jail.”
Poor Archie grew pale at the thought of being put in jail, and huddled
himself closer in the corner. After a time the train started, and the
tramps, he noticed, climbed up into some sort of compartment under the
roof of the car, where they wouldn’t be observed, leaving Archie alone
down-stairs. Things went smoothly for a time. The train went flying
along, and Archie counted every mile which brought him nearer to the
city. Finally the train pulled up at a crossing, and a brakeman came
along and threw open the door of the car. He was not long in discovering
the cowering figure in the corner, and his wrath was dreadful to look
upon. “So, ye cussed vagabond,” he growled, “ye thought ye’d steal a
ride, did ye? Get out o’ this now. Quick, out with ye.” Archie could
have fainted, and, as it was, he almost fell out of the car, propelled
by the brakeman’s boot. For awhile he stood dazed beside the track, and
finally moved on. “I’ll keep a ‘stiff upper lip,’” he said, “whatever
happens.” But this was by far the most discouraging adventure yet.