AT THE PALMER HOUSE.
Tommy Keegan pointed to Barlow and Jones, who rather imprudently had
maintained their position, in the hope that the train would be wrecked.
The engineer and the group of passengers around him eyed the two men
with a quick, scrutinizing glance. Their appearance made the charge a
probable one.
"How do you know, boy?" asked the engineer.
"I seed them put the rock on the track," answered Tommy.
"It's a lie!" blustered Jones. "The boy did it himself."
"The boy could not lift a rock of that size," said the engineer
positively.
Among the group of passengers were Robert and the miner.
"Why, it's the scamps that were put off the train!" exclaimed the
miner.
"You recognize them?" asked the engineer.
"Yes, they were put off the train at the last station for trying to
swindle some of the passengers."
"What have you to say to this, man?" demanded the engineer sternly.
"It's a lie. The gentleman is mistaken."
"No, he isn't. I was one of those who put them off the train," said one
of the other passengers.
"Tell all you know about it, boy," said the engineer.
"I seed them try to turn the switch first," said Tommy. "They couldn't
do that, so they got the rock and put dat on the track just before the
train come along."
Barlow and Jones saw that things were getting serious for them, and
very foolishly started to run. But a dozen men went in pursuit,
prominent among them being the miner, whose long legs soon brought him
abreast of the rascally pair. He seized Barlow by the collar, and at
the same time another passenger grasped Jones.
"Now," said the engineer, "what was your object in trying to wreck the
train?"
"We didn't do it. The boy lies," said Jones sullenly.
"It was in revenge for being put off the train," suggested the miner.
"Lynch them! Hang them to the nearest tree!" shouted half a dozen.
"That's my idea," said the miner.
Had the engineer sanctioned this, it would have been done without
further delay, but he was a man of good judgment, and would not
countenance such a proceeding.
"No," he said, "secure them and take them on board the train."
"Come here, boy," said the miner, beckoning to Tommy. "The passengers
owe you something for exposing these infamous rascals. Who will chip
in?"
He took off his hat and dropped in a piece of money. Others followed
suit, and the happy Tommy went away the richer by over thirty dollars.
The two men were secured by a strong cord, and once again boarded the
train as passengers, but under very unfavorable circumstances, and with
gloomy forebodings as to the fate that was in store for them.
As they neared Chicago the miner turned to Robert and asked: "Are you
intending to go to a hotel, my lad?"
Robert hesitated.
"I don't think I can afford it," he said. "I have but little money, and
I don't know how long I may have to wait for work."
"Don't let that worry. I am going to the Palmer House, and will take
you along with me."
"Isn't it a high-priced hotel?"
"Yes, but it will cost you nothing. You can stay with me two or three
days while you are looking around for work."
"You are very kind," said Robert gratefully, "but I am a stranger to
you."
"Not now. I feel as well acquainted with you as if I had known you for
years. I have been poor myself, and it will go hard if Dick Marden
can't take care of a boy who is looking out for a chance to make a
living. Well, youngster, what do you say?"
"I can only say that I accept your offer with gratitude, Mr. Marden."
"That's all right. You may consider me your guardian for the time
being."
Twenty minutes more brought them to the Chicago station.
The hackmen were on hand with their offers of transportation, but the
miner declined.
"I want to unfold myself," he said, "and I reckon I'll walk. My bag
isn't heavy, for I don't carry round a dress suit. I suppose you're
able to walk, Robert?"
"Yes, I would prefer it."
So, unheeding the hackmen, they started for the Palmer House, which was
less than half a mile distant. When Robert came in sight of the hotel,
he was impressed by the large size and handsome appearance of the
structure.
"I shouldn't dare to put up at such a hotel if I were alone," he said
with a smile.
"No, I reckon not. As it is, you are all right. Let us go in."
They walked in to the office.
"I want a room with two beds," said the miner, after registering his
name.
"All right, sir. Front!"
A bell-boy came up at the summons.
"Take this gentleman and his son to 297."
The bell-boy took their bags and preceded them to the elevator.
"Did you hear what the clerk said, Robert? He called you my son."
"Yes, I heard him."
"I haven't chick nor child, and have no right to have, as I never
married, but if I did have a son, you would suit me as well as any boy
I know."
"Thank you, Mr. Marden; I consider that a compliment."
"I mean it. Now let us see what sort of a room has been assigned to us."
It proved to be a very good room, moderately spacious, with two beds,
one on each side of the apartment.
"I think we'll be comfortable here, Robert," said his new friend.
"I feel sure of it," replied the boy, looking about him with an air of
satisfaction.
"You can have that bed and I'll take the other. Now, do you feel
hungry?"
"I think I could eat something, Mr. Marden."
"Don't call me Mr. Marden. I'm not used to it."
"What shall I call you?"
"Call me Dick."
"If you wish me to, though I am afraid it is hardly respectful,
considering how much older you are than I am."
"Oh, hang respect! That won't bother me any. Take a wash, if you want
to, and we'll go down to the dining-room."
Robert was glad to do so, as he felt heated and dusty. Mr. Marden
followed his example.
They went down to the dining-room, and both did justice to the
excellent meal provided.
They had just commenced on the dessert when a small man with a slight
hump entered the dining-room, and took a seat opposite. He glanced
across the table.
"Why, Dick Marden!" he cried in surprise. "Is that you?"
The miner looked across the table.
"Well, well, who would have expected to see you here, Peter Gray?" he
returned, arching his eyebrows.
"Strange things will happen, Dick. I've been in Chicago for nearly a
year."
"Are you in business here?"
"Yes, I keep a cut-rate ticket office on Clark street."
"Are you making money?"
The small man shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm not rich yet," he answered. "I suppose you are."
"I have a little money," he answered.
"Let me see; the last time I saw you was at the diggings?"
"Yes, we were both in hard luck then. How are you fixed?"
"I've got a little, and my business gives me a living."
"It must, if you are boarding here."
"I am not. I generally eat at a restaurant, but once a week I come in
here and get a good dinner. The remembrance of it lasts me a week, and
makes my other meals more palatable."
"You are a sensible man."
"Is that your son, Dick?"
"No, I wish he were. He is a young friend of mine, who is for a short
time under my protection. His name is Robert Frost. Don't you want a
clerk in your office?"
"Well, I don't know," said Mr. Gray. "If he were your son now----"
"Consider him my son, then. But we'll speak of this after dinner."
"All right, Dick."
Robert's eyes lighted up with pleasant anticipation. He felt that he
would indeed be fortunate if he should obtain a place at once. He would
not be able to look up to his employer, for the cripple was a little
less than five feet in height, but their relations might be pleasant,
nevertheless.