BOB'S LUCK CONTINUES
After the railroad president had left the car, the brakeman found a
chair for Bob, and showed him how to work its mechanism so that he could
drop it back when he wished to go to sleep, all the while eyeing the
poorly-dressed lad with evident curiosity, which finally he could no
longer restrain, and he asked:
"Have you known Mr. Perkins long?"
"No," replied Bob. "I only met him to-night."
"You must have made a hit with him."
"No. I just think he is very kind."
"Huh! That's a new one. You're the first one that ever called old
Perkins kind. If you could hear some of the men talk about how he has
treated them, you wouldn't think he was so kind."
"I don't know about that. I only know he was very kind to me," returned
Bob, "and I like him. If his men were honest and square with him, I
think he would be with them."
The approach of the train to a station, necessitating the member of the
train crew going about his duty, prevented him from plying Bob further
with questions, much to the latter's relief.
Placing his box of lunch on the floor beside him, Bob leaned back in his
chair, partially closed his eyes, and gazed about him at the other
passengers. But there was none who interested him, and he soon turned
his mind to the contemplation of his position.
It was with difficulty that he could realize that he was actually on his
way to the great West. But the steady motion of the train, the whirl of
the wheels, and the occasional blast of the engine's whistle, told him
that he was not dreaming, and after enjoying for a while the sensation
of travelling he began to think about what he should do when he reached
Chicago.
He had read much of the enormous area the city covered, and he wondered
if he would have any difficulty in finding the home of the woman whose
husband was to form such a necessary link in his travelling
arrangements.
"Suppose she shouldn't be at home, or suppose Mr. Cameron doesn't feel
like helping me? I guess under those circumstances it would be necessary
for me to get a job somewhere. But I won't be an errand boy in a grocery
store," he promised himself. But with the custom of looking only on the
bright side of things, which is a fortunate habit of youth, he began to
think of the good times he would have riding the horses on the plains,
and of watching the cowboys as they roped the steers and branded them.
And his fancy even pictured himself as a successful participant in
various nerve-stirring contests.
"I may be from the East, but I won't let them call me a tenderfoot," Bob
exclaimed earnestly; "and I'll try and get on the right side of them, so
they won't play tricks on me."
Bob's idea of cowboys had been gathered from his reading of many stories
of life on the plains, and was, therefore, rather vague. And it was
while holding imaginary conversations with ranchmen conjured from his
brain, that his body, wearied by the unusual events through which he had
passed, grew quiet, and he finally dropped off to sleep.
The motion of the train and frequent stops affected him not at all, and
as soundly as though he were in the bed at the rear of the grocer's
shop, he slept through the night.
Mindful of Mr. Perkins' request that he look after Bob, the brakeman
brought a coat with which he covered the boy, as the chill of night
settled on the car, and several times as he passed he tucked it about
Bob, when his moving had caused it to slide to the floor.
About seven o'clock in the morning the trainman, after having waited in
vain for Bob to wake of his own accord, shook him gently by the
shoulder, exclaiming:
"Come, son, it's time you were up and doing, if you are going to have
breakfast with the 'old man.' He is liable to send in any time for you
now, and after you have known him as long as I have, you'll learn that
he doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"But where am I going to wash my face and hands? Doesn't the train stop
at the station?"
At this naïve question, the brakeman looked at Bob for a moment, and
then chuckling heartily to himself, exclaimed:
"Say, kid, are you trying to jolly me, or have you been kept in a glass
cage all your life? Don't you know that they have washrooms on the
trains?"
"No. This is the first time I have ever taken a journey on a train in my
life."
"Where are you going?"
"To Chicago, first, and then out to Oklahoma."
"Well, that's far enough, so that if you don't know anything about
travelling now, you will when you get there. What part of Oklahoma are
you going to?"
"I don't just know exactly," and then, his breast swelling with pride,
he continued: "I'm going on a ranch, but I haven't decided quite yet
where."
"Folks live out there? Going to friends?"
"No."
"Well, I suppose you know your own business, but taking it all in all,
if I was you, I think I'd stay East among people I knew, and whose ways
I was used to."
"I don't believe you would if you were me," said Bob, and then tiring of
the questioning, he said: "I thought you were going to show me the
washroom. I want to be ready when Mr. Perkins sends for me."
Smiling at the manner in which Bob changed the conversation, the
brakeman led him to the lavatory, and soon Bob had made his very
primitive toilet.
In his endeavor to make himself as presentable as possible, he had
washed and wiped his face so vigorously that it almost shone. And no
sooner had he finished the task than the brakeman put his head in the
door, and said:
"All ready, kid? Mr. Perkins has sent for you."
Going out into the car, Bob saw a negro clad in a suit of immaculate
linen.
"Is you Mr. Chester?" asked the darky, restraining the smile Bob's
appearance produced.
"My name's Bob Chester, if that's what you mean," returned the boy.
"Then you'se to come with me to the dining-car, where Mr. Perkins is
waiting for you."
Without more delay, the negro led the way.
Unmindful of the glances indicative of curiosity that were cast at him,
Bob followed his guide into the dining-car.
As the railroad president saw his youthful guest approach, he arose, and
with punctilious ceremony shook Bob's hand, murmuring:
"I hope you slept well, Bob?"
"Very, thank you. I don't think I should have been awake now, if the
brakeman hadn't called me. He was very kind to me."
"I'm glad of that," smiled the official. "What would you like to eat?"
"Most anything, thank you."
"Then suppose you let me order for you."
This suggestion brought great relief to Bob, and he listened with wide
eyes as he heard the order for strawberries, bacon and eggs, buckwheat
cakes, maple syrup and coffee.
"Does that selection meet with your approval?" smiled the railroad
president.
"Indeed it does, sir! Next to beans, I like buckwheat cakes."
"I guess all boys do. I know my sons at home are very fond of them."
[Illustration: "DOES THAT SELECTION MEET WITH YOUR APPROVAL?" SMILED THE
PRESIDENT
_Bob Chester's Grit_ Page 70]
Bob's enjoyment of his breakfast was so evident that it was almost
pathetic. And as Mr. Perkins watched him eat, he wondered what the boy's
story could be, and from having taken merely a passing interest in him,
his desire to do something for him became keen.
Under the discreet guidance of the railroad president, Bob was led to
tell him of his life and of the experiences of the day before that had
resulted in the severing of all ties, and the taking of so radical a
step as the trip to the West.
As he listened to the narrative, his mind reverted to his own boys at
home, surrounded by every luxury that wealth and affection could give
them, and he wondered if, were either of them placed in Bob's
circumstances, they would have the courage to do as he had done.
When Bob had finished his story, Mr. Perkins sat in silence for several
minutes, evidently in deep thought.
"I think you have chosen the wisest course, Bob," he finally said. "The
West is a great country, and you have qualities about you that I think
will bring you success. Of course, you will probably be obliged to stand
a good many hard knocks, but they won't hurt you, my boy. Hard knocks
are good for any man. The only thing to be careful about is that they do
not sour you and cause you to feel anger and hatred against your
fellows.
"I suppose you know, of course, that the West, just like any other part
of the world, contains a lot of bad men as well as good--only out West
the bad men are more noticeable because they act more openly, gambling
and drinking and fighting.
"You must be very careful whom you choose for your companions. If you
make up your mind to treat every one politely and with kindness, you
will soon be able to determine who are the ones whose friendship is
worth having, and whom to avoid. But if you wish to succeed, you must
keep away from the saloons and gambling dives.
"This may seem a good deal of a lecture to you, but if you follow my
advice, some day you will thank me for giving it to you. And now, what
do you propose to do, in case you don't find Mrs. Cameron? You know in
big cities people often move, and it may be some time since her sister
saw her. Then again, perhaps her husband won't prove very
accommodating."
"I've thought of that, Mr. Perkins. If I can't find them, I shall try to
get some work somewhere, so that I can earn money enough to pay my fare
from Chicago."
"You'll succeed all right, Bob," said the railroad president. "You have
the right spirit of grit. But I have a plan which will do away with the
necessity of depending upon the good nature of Mrs. Cameron or her
husband."
And taking one of his cards from his pocket, Mr. Perkins wrote several
words on it, and then handed it to Bob.
"If you'll take this card to the offices of the Grand Pacific, which you
will find in the building directly across from the station where we
arrive in Chicago, they will give you a pass, which will carry you to
any part of Oklahoma you desire to go. I want you to accept it as a
present from me. You can tell them to what place to make it out, and as
it will take many hours to reach your destination, I want you to accept
this money, so that you can buy your food." And he handed Bob a
twenty-dollar bill. "If you are careful, you will have something left
when you reach that part of Oklahoma to which you decide to go."
Before Bob could recover sufficiently from his surprise to express his
thanks, Mr. Perkins had arisen, and saying that it was necessary for him
to get off the train at the next station, went back to his car, leaving
Bob in contemplation of his pass and money.