WAYSIDE FRIENDS
Now that Austin had cut his last shore-line, had crossed the bridge away
from home, he began to plan for himself. It was now past noon, and he was
both hungry and cold. When he thought of his penniless condition a chill of
apprehension came over him, for he had no mind to beg. He continued his
search for work on this side the river, but with as little success. Though
he could hardly have told why, he had kept on toward the railroad, and was
approaching it where a small station stood. He had no money with which to
buy a ticket, yet he hoped that in some way he might be able to follow the
road to where he could find work.
When he reached the station he found no depot and only a few houses; a box
car had been set beside the track and in it was a tiny waiting-room with a
fire burning. A couple of men sat idly by smoking and talking, scarcely
noticing when the boy came in. Austin was thoroughly tired out, more hungry
than he had ever been in his life, and chilled to the bone. His feet had
been wet all day, and he had not a dry stitch of clothing on him. Setting
the suitcase down, he sank upon the rude bench at the side of the room and
hardly moved for a long time. The early twilight of the gloomy evening came
on, and still he sat, with a thoughtful, far-away look in his eyes. He did
not know what to do next.
After a while the ticket agent came in. Seeing the boy sit in such a
dejected position and without moving for a long time, he guessed that he
was in trouble and in need of help.
“Where are you going, sir?” he asked Austin kindly.
“I hardly know. I have been looking for work among the farmers all day and
none of them want to hire me, and I hardly know what to do next,” said
Austin.
“Do you live near here?”
“Yes, I have walked from home today; but I do not want to go back if I can
avoid it. I want to find work.”
“Had some trouble?”
At this question Austin looked around, and seeing that they were now alone
and feeling certain that the man was kindly disposed toward him he told him
all, shielding neither his father nor himself. It was so evident that he
told the truth that the man believed him.
“Have you any means, or any way of making your expenses while you are
looking for work?” was the next question.
“No sir, I have no money, and only want to get work. I have a friend at the
next town whom I am quite certain would help me if I could only find him.”
“Have you anything about you that you could sell if you got into a pinch?”
again asked the man.
“Not a thing unless it would be this,” and he held up a pocket-knife, which
had been a gift of his mother’s.
“If you will give me the knife I will give you your supper and a ticket to
the next station,” tactfully proposed the man, not wishing to make Austin
feel like a beggar.
Accepting the offer he was taken to a little restaurant and given a good
supper, and before it had grown much later he had a ticket and was aboard
the train bound for the town where his friend was at work. Austin had taken
opportunity while waiting for the train to change his clothes, and he now
presented a much better appearance than when he was sitting by the little
box-car fire.
When Austin left the train it was dark, and had been for some time. He had
been so tired as the train bounded along that he hardly sensed his
position. Dimly he had wondered where he would sleep that night. Now he
stood for a moment on the little station platform wondering what he should
do next. He did not know where to find his friend and was not certain he
was here at all. This had been his only hope of finding work, and now he
realized it had been a very forlorn one. Since he was here he must find the
man or stay out in the cold all night. He saw the light of a hotel across
the street. Going there, he asked if they knew his friend; but his friend
was a stranger to them. He inquired about other hotels and rooming-houses,
and was directed to two or three, which he visited with as little success.
Standing again in the outside darkness he pondered what to do. He thought
perhaps his friend might be known at the livery stable, and going there he
asked again. The stableman knew no such a fellow, and by the flickering
lantern-light he saw the look of disappointment and concern that crossed
Austin’s face.
“Where are you going to stay tonight?” he asked.
“I do not know. I have made no inquiry about it, hoping to find my friend,”
the boy replied.
“Every house in town is full; some folks will have to sit up at the hotel
for lack of a bed. I have no idea where to tell you to go.” Then after a
moment’s thought he added, “I could fix you a place here in the barn where
you would be comfortable, and welcome.”
“Thank you, sir; but, to be honest, I have no money to pay for even that
bed,” truthfully replied Austin.
“Well, a fellow can’t stay out in the cold a night like this. Prepare to
roll in and maybe you will have better luck tomorrow,” good-naturedly
replied the man, and taking an armful of rugs he went to an oat-bin and
spread them out and left Austin to get to rest as soon as possible.
Though this was a novel bed to the boy, and the surroundings new and
strange, so weary was he that he was soon fast asleep. It was morning when
he wakened, but not yet light. He heard the man in the barn with the
horses, so jumping up hastily he dressed and went out to help him, with the
hope that he could remain and work about the barn, though this was not the
kind of work he had wished for.
“Have you need of a hand around the barn?” he asked the man after a while.
“If you have I should like a job.”
“No, I can manage all there is to do very well,” was the discouraging
reply.
“Do you know of any work around here I could get?”
“Not a thing. You are most too young to stand the work in the oil-fields,
and that is about all there is to do this time of year. I shall go over to
the house now for my breakfast, and you look after things while I am gone
and then you may go get yours,” said the man, who felt genuine pity for the
boy.
Austin enjoyed the warm breakfast and the kindness of the housewife who
gave it to him. Before he left, the man handed him almost a dollar in
change, another act of kindness.
Taking his suitcase again in his hand Austin proceeded on his uncertain
journey. The money the stableman had given him would be sufficient to carry
him to the village where his grandparents lived, and as he had heard that
Wilbur was there, he decided to cease looking for his friend and go on to
his grandparents’ home and get assistance from his brother. He thought this
would be only fair, for Wilbur had borne no responsibility, while he
himself had given all his wages for the support of the family.
“Why, Austin!” exclaimed his grandmother when he came to her door. “Can
this be you! I did not know you intended coming. How did you leave the
children!”
“Everybody is well, thank you,” primly replied Austin; for he was always a
little afraid of his sharp-spoken grandmother. “Papa thought he could get
along without me for a while, so I am looking for work. Do you know where I
could find Wilbur? Perhaps he could help me get something right away.”
“Will is in town somewhere; I see little of him. You come in and spend the
night with us, and hunt him in the morning.”
Austin spent a pleasant evening with the old folks; but he told them
nothing of the trouble between him and his father, lest they might detain
him and send word to his father where to find him. The next morning he
found his brother, who was as surprized to see him as the grandparents had
been.
“Hello, kid, how are the folks?” he had greeted him in a jolly tone.
“All right. Papa thought he could get on without me for a while, so I am
looking for work. Do you know where I can get any?”
“No, I do not know of a thing. There is not much around here that is light
enough for a kid,” replied Wilbur, who felt his two years’ superiority very
much.
“Well, then, could you let me have some money to keep me till I do find
work? I am completely broke and have not been able to get a thing to do.”
“I’m sorry, Austin, but I am in the same fix. I lost on a game last night,
and it left me in bad shape. I would let you have it if I could.”
Austin did not remain with his brother long. He felt sick at heart to think
he had so soon turned to the very course his mother had warned him against.
From the flippant remarks Wilbur made it was plain he was sowing his wild
oats with a reckless hand.
Though in the village where many of his father’s people lived, Austin felt
as lonely as he had the day before in the little box car beside the
railroad. Thoughtfully he walked down toward the depot, wondering what to
do. He had no heart to look for work. At the depot he met a young fellow of
a friendly disposition who seemed disposed to talk with him. It took but a
little probing by this smooth fellow to get from Austin all his story; for
the boy was entirely unacquainted with the ways of the world. And to his
new friend the whole thing seemed a joke. He confided to Austin that he was
in nearly the same predicament, but that he knew a way to ride about the
country without funds. Austin had heard of such things but did not know how
it was done, and showed some interest; and the young man proceeded to
explain to him the tricks of his trade, for he was by profession a loafer,
a tramp.
That what the young man did was wrong, Austin knew; but he was so kind and
engaging in his manner, and seemed to be such a friend just when Austin
needed a friend very much, Austin consented to go with him on his next
trip, which he intended beginning that very afternoon. Presently another
young fellow of the same type as Austin’s new found friend joined them, and
the three boys waited at a convenient place for boarding a box car without
being noticed.