Boy from the Ranch; Or, Roy Bradner's City Experiences

by Frank V. Webster

  CHAPTER V

  A QUEER BED

  "Are you going to eat on the first call?" asked Mr. Baker, rising fromhis comfortable chair and looking at Roy.

  "I don't know--I think--Yes, I guess I will."

  It suddenly occurred to the boy that he might take advantage of theacquaintance he had formed with the man, and observe just how he oughtto conduct himself in the dining car.

  "I shall be glad of your company," spoke Mr. Baker, with a pleasantsmile. "Will you sit at my table?"

  "I'm not so very hungry," remarked Roy, thinking that if he foundthings too strange he could call for something simple, though the truthwas he had an excellent appetite.

  "I am not either," declared Mr. Baker. "I never eat much whiletraveling, but I think it best to have my meals regularly. Now, ifyou'll come with me, we'll see what they have at this traveling hotel."

  He led the way from the parlor to the dining car. If Roy had beenastonished at the magnificence of the first coach he was doubly so atthe scene which now met his eyes.

  Arranged along both sides of the dining car, next to the broad, highwindows, were small tables, sparkling with cut-glass and silver. Inthe center of each table was a small pot of graceful ferns, whilethroughout the car there were fine hangings, beautifully inlaid wood,and on the floor a soft carpet. It was, indeed, a fine traveling hotel.

  At the tables, not all of which were occupied, were seated beautifulwomen, some handsomely gowned, and there were men, attired in theheight of fashion. For the first time Roy felt rather ashamed of hisordinary "store" clothes, which were neither properly cut, nor of goodmaterial.

  "Here is a good table," said Mr. Baker, indicating one about the centerof the car.

  Roy took his seat opposite his new acquaintance, a queer feeling ofnervousness overcoming him.

  "I'd rather ride a bucking bronco any day, than be here," the boythought. But he was not going to back out now. He knew he had themoney to pay for whatever he ordered, and, he reflected that if he wasnot as stylishly dressed as the others, he was probably more hungrythan any of them, for he had an early breakfast.

  As soon as Roy and Mr. Baker were seated, a colored waiter glidedswiftly to their table and filled their glasses from a curiously shapedvessel, called a "caraffe," which looked something like a bottle orflask, with a very large body, and a very small neck. Inside was asolid lump of ice, which made the water cold. Roy looked curiously atthe piece of frozen crystal. Mr. Baker noted his look of astonishment.

  "Don't you like ice water?" he asked.

  "Yes, but I was wondering how in the world they ever got that big hunkof ice through the little neck of that bottle."

  "Oh," exclaimed Mr. Baker with a laugh, "they first fill the caraffewith water, and then they freeze it in an ice machine they have on thetrain for keeping the other supplies from spoiling. It would be ratherdifficult to put that chunk of ice down through that narrow neck."

  Roy understood now. He began to think he had lots to learn of theworld, but there was more coming. The waiter placed a menu card infront of Mr. Baker, and laid one at Roy's plate. He knew what theywere, for he had several times taken dinner at a small hotel at PaintedStone.

  He was not prepared however for the queer language in which the menucard or bill of fare was printed. It was French, and the names of themost ordinary dishes were in that foreign tongue.

  Roy was puzzled. He wanted a substantial meal, but he did not know howto order it. He was afraid to try to pronounce the odd looking words,and I am afraid if he had done so he would have made a mistake, as,indeed, better educated persons than he would have done. He had a wildnotion of telling the waiter to bring everything on the bill of fare,but there seemed to be too many dishes.

  Finally he decided on a course to pursue. The waiter was standingthere, polite and all attention, for, though Roy's clothes did notimpress him as indicating a lad of wealth, Mr. Baker's attire was showyenough to allow the colored man to think he might receive a handsometip.

  "I think I'll have a ham sandwich and a cup of coffee," said Roy indesperation. He knew he was safe in ordering that, even if it was noton the card, though it might have been for all he knew, disguised undersome odd name.

  Mr. Baker looked surprised.

  "I should say you hadn't any appetite," he remarked. Then, as heunderstood the situation, and Roy's embarrassment, he said: "Suppose Iorder for both of us? I am used to this sort of thing."

  Roy was grateful for this delicate way of putting it, and, with a sighof relief, he replied:

  "I wish you would. I guess I've got a good appetite after all."

  Thereupon Mr. Baker ordered a simple but substantial meal, includingsoup, fish, roast beef, potatoes and side dishes of vegetables, endingup with coffee and pie.

  "This is fine!" exclaimed Roy, when he had finished. "I s'pose theycharge about two dollars for grub like this?"

  Several persons in the dining car smiled, for Roy was used to shoutingat cattle, and calling to cowboys, and had acquired a habit of speakingin rather loud tones.

  "No, this 'grub' will cost you one dollar," said Mr. Baker.

  "Well, it's worth it," declared the boy, pulling out quite a roll ofbills, for his father had been generous. At the sight of the money agreedy look came into the eyes of Mr. Baker, a look that would havewarned Roy had he seen it. But he was busy looking for a one-dollarbill among the fives and tens.

  "Now, if you're ready we'll go back to the parlor car, and have a cigarin the smoking room," suggested Mr. Baker.

  "No, thank you. Not for mine. I don't smoke."

  "Well, it is a useless habit I suppose, but I am too old to change now.I'll join you presently," and the man went into a small compartment atone end of the parlor car, when they reached it, leaving Roy to go tohis chair alone.

  Had the boy seen the three men whom Mr. Baker greeted in the smokingroom, perhaps our hero would not have been quite so ready to continuehis acquaintance with the man. For, in the little apartment were threeindividuals whose faces did not indicate any too much honesty, andwhose clothes were on the same "flashy" order as were Mr. Baker's,though none of the trio had as expensive jewelry as had Roy's newfriend.

  "Well, sport, how about you?" asked one of the men. "Did you manage topick up anything?"

  "Not so loud, Ike," cautioned Mr. Baker, addressing the man who hadspoken, and whose name was Isaac Sutton. "I think I can put you on thetrack of something."

  "Something good?" asked the third man, who was known as Jerome Hynard,though that was not his real name.

  "We want it with plenty of cash," added the last man, who was calledDennison Tupper.

  "This is a green kid, right from the ranch, going to New York," saidPhelan Baker. "He's got quite a wad of money, and if you work the gameright you may be able to get the most of it. I'll tell you how."

  Then the four began to whisper, for they were laying a plot and wereafraid of being overheard. All unconscious of the danger thatthreatened him, Roy was back in the parlor car, enjoying the scenery,and thinking of the many strange things he would see in New York.

  For some reason Mr. Baker did not come back where Roy was. Perhaps hefeared the boy might be suspicious of his sudden friendship, for Mr.Baker was a good reader of character, and he saw that Roy, in spite ofhis lack of experience, was a shrewd lad.

  As for the young traveler, he began to get tired. He was unused tositting still so long, and riding in a soft chair was very differentfrom being on the back of the swift pony, galloping over the plains.

  "I wonder what they're going to do about bunks?" thought Roy, as helooked about the car. "I don't fancy sleeping on these chairs, andI've heard they made the seats in the coaches up into bunks."

  Roy had never seen a sleeping car, and imagined the coach he was in wasone. He decided he would ask the porter about it soon, if he saw nosigns of the beds being made up. He had his supper alone at a table inthe dining car, Mr. Baker remaining with his three cronie
s, and out ofRoy's sight. Profiting by his experience at dinner, the boy knew howto order a good meal.

  To his relief, soon after he got back to the parlor car, the porter whohad first spoken to him, came up and announced:

  "Youh berth will be ready any time youh want it, sah."

  "Berth?"

  "Yais, sah."

  Roy did not know exactly what was meant. At the ranch that word wasnever used, a bed being a "bunk."

  "I don't think I care for any," said Roy, deciding that was the safestway.

  "What's that, sah? Youh ain't goin to sit up all night, be youh?Mighty uncomfortable, sah. Better take a bed. Youh ticket calls fo'one, sah."

  "Oh, you mean a bunk?"

  "Bunk! Ha! Ha! Youh western gen'men gwine to hab youh joke, I see.We calls 'em berths, sah."

  "Is mine ready?"

  "Jest as soon as youh want it. Youh can go back in de sleeping car."

  This Roy understood. He went back two coaches toward the rear, asdirected by the porter, and found himself in still another kind of car.This had big plush seats, like small couches, facing each other, while,overhead, was a sort of sloping ceiling.

  "I don't see where there are many bunks here," the boy remarked tohimself. He saw persons sitting in the seats, talking, and, findingone unoccupied, he took possession of it. Soon a porter came in tohim, examined his ticket, and asked:

  "Do youh wish youh berth made up now, sah?"

  "Guess I might as well," replied Roy, wondering where the porter wasgoing to get the bed from, and whether he was going to produce it fromsome unseen source, as a conjurer pulls rabbits out of tall hats.

  "Ef youh jest kindly take the next seat, I'll make up your berth," saidthe porter, and Roy moved back one place, but where he could stillwatch the colored man.

  That individual then proceeded to make up the berth. While the processis familiar to many of my young readers, it was a novelty to Roy. Withmuch wonder he watched the man lift up the cushions of the seats, takeout blankets and pillows from the hollow places, and then slide the twobottoms of the seats together until they made a level place.

  Then what Roy had thought to be merely a slanting part of the ceilingwas pulled down, revealing a broad shelf, that formed the upper berthor bed. On this shelf were sheets, blankets and other things neededfor the beds. In a short time Roy saw made before his eyes, wherethere had been only seats before, a comfortable "bunk" with pillows,white sheets, blankets, curtains hanging down in front and all complete.

  "Now youh can turn in," said the porter with a smile, as he began tomake up another berth. Roy decided to wait a while, until he saw howother men travelers undressed, and when he saw one man retire behindthe curtains, and, sitting on the edge of his berth, take off hisshoes, and the heavier parts of his clothing, Roy did likewise. Thusthe difficult problem of getting to bed was solved.