CHAPTER VIII
BOB'S LUCK CONTINUES
After the railroad president had left the car, the brakeman found achair for Bob, and showed him how to work its mechanism so that he coulddrop it back when he wished to go to sleep, all the while eyeing thepoorly-dressed lad with evident curiosity, which finally he could nolonger 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 oldPerkins kind. If you could hear some of the men talk about how he hastreated them, you wouldn't think he was so kind."
"I don't know about that. I only know he was very kind to me," returnedBob, "and I like him. If his men were honest and square with him, Ithink he would be with them."
The approach of the train to a station, necessitating the member of thetrain crew going about his duty, prevented him from plying Bob furtherwith questions, much to the latter's relief.
Placing his box of lunch on the floor beside him, Bob leaned back in hischair, partially closed his eyes, and gazed about him at the otherpassengers. But there was none who interested him, and he soon turnedhis mind to the contemplation of his position.
It was with difficulty that he could realize that he was actually on hisway to the great West. But the steady motion of the train, the whirl ofthe wheels, and the occasional blast of the engine's whistle, told himthat he was not dreaming, and after enjoying for a while the sensationof travelling he began to think about what he should do when he reachedChicago.
He had read much of the enormous area the city covered, and he wonderedif he would have any difficulty in finding the home of the woman whosehusband was to form such a necessary link in his travellingarrangements.
"Suppose she shouldn't be at home, or suppose Mr. Cameron doesn't feellike helping me? I guess under those circumstances it would be necessaryfor me to get a job somewhere. But I won't be an errand boy in a grocerystore," he promised himself. But with the custom of looking only on thebright side of things, which is a fortunate habit of youth, he began tothink 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 invarious nerve-stirring contests.
"I may be from the East, but I won't let them call me a tenderfoot," Bobexclaimed earnestly; "and I'll try and get on the right side of them, sothey won't play tricks on me."
Bob's idea of cowboys had been gathered from his reading of many storiesof life on the plains, and was, therefore, rather vague. And it waswhile holding imaginary conversations with ranchmen conjured from hisbrain, that his body, wearied by the unusual events through which he hadpassed, grew quiet, and he finally dropped off to sleep.
The motion of the train and frequent stops affected him not at all, andas soundly as though he were in the bed at the rear of the grocer'sshop, he slept through the night.
Mindful of Mr. Perkins' request that he look after Bob, the brakemanbrought a coat with which he covered the boy, as the chill of nightsettled on the car, and several times as he passed he tucked it aboutBob, when his moving had caused it to slide to the floor.
About seven o'clock in the morning the trainman, after having waited invain for Bob to wake of his own accord, shook him gently by theshoulder, exclaiming:
"Come, son, it's time you were up and doing, if you are going to havebreakfast with the 'old man.' He is liable to send in any time for younow, and after you have known him as long as I have, you'll learn thathe doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"But where am I going to wash my face and hands? Doesn't the train stopat the station?"
At this naive question, the brakeman looked at Bob for a moment, andthen chuckling heartily to himself, exclaimed:
"Say, kid, are you trying to jolly me, or have you been kept in a glasscage all your life? Don't you know that they have washrooms on thetrains?"
"No. This is the first time I have ever taken a journey on a train in mylife."
"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 abouttravelling now, you will when you get there. What part of Oklahoma areyou 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 yetwhere."
"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 waysI was used to."
"I don't believe you would if you were me," said Bob, and then tiring ofthe questioning, he said: "I thought you were going to show me thewashroom. I want to be ready when Mr. Perkins sends for me."
Smiling at the manner in which Bob changed the conversation, thebrakeman led him to the lavatory, and soon Bob had made his veryprimitive toilet.
In his endeavor to make himself as presentable as possible, he hadwashed and wiped his face so vigorously that it almost shone. And nosooner had he finished the task than the brakeman put his head in thedoor, 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 immaculatelinen.
"Is you Mr. Chester?" asked the darky, restraining the smile Bob'sappearance 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 iswaiting 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, andwith 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 thebrakeman 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 wideeyes as he heard the order for strawberries, bacon and eggs, buckwheatcakes, maple syrup and coffee.
"Does that selection meet with your approval?" smiled the railroadpresident.
"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."
"DOES THAT SELECTION MEET WITH YOUR APPROVAL?" SMILED THEPRESIDENT_Bob Chester's Grit_ Page 70]
Bob's enjoyment of his breakfast was so evident that it was almostpathetic. And as Mr. Perkins watched him eat, he wondered what the boy'sstory 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 totell him of his life and of the experiences of the day before that hadresulted in the severing of all ties, and the taking of so radical astep as the trip to the West.
As he listened to the narrative, his mind reverted to his own boys athome, surrounded by every luxury that wealth and affection could givethem, and he wondered if, were either of them placed in Bob'scircumstances, they would have the courage to do as he had done.
When Bob had finished his story, Mr. Perkins sat in silence for severalminutes, evidently in deep thought.
"I think you have chosen the wisest course, Bob," he finally said. "TheWest is a great country, and you have qualities about you that I thinkwill bring you success. Of course, you will probably be obliged to standa good many hard knocks, but they won
't hurt you, my boy. Hard knocksare good for any man. The only thing to be careful about is that they donot sour you and cause you to feel anger and hatred against yourfellows.
"I suppose you know, of course, that the West, just like any other partof the world, contains a lot of bad men as well as good--only out Westthe bad men are more noticeable because they act more openly, gamblingand drinking and fighting.
"You must be very careful whom you choose for your companions. If youmake up your mind to treat every one politely and with kindness, youwill soon be able to determine who are the ones whose friendship isworth having, and whom to avoid. But if you wish to succeed, you mustkeep away from the saloons and gambling dives.
"This may seem a good deal of a lecture to you, but if you follow myadvice, some day you will thank me for giving it to you. And now, whatdo you propose to do, in case you don't find Mrs. Cameron? You know inbig cities people often move, and it may be some time since her sistersaw her. Then again, perhaps her husband won't prove veryaccommodating."
"I've thought of that, Mr. Perkins. If I can't find them, I shall try toget some work somewhere, so that I can earn money enough to pay my farefrom Chicago."
"You'll succeed all right, Bob," said the railroad president. "You havethe right spirit of grit. But I have a plan which will do away with thenecessity of depending upon the good nature of Mrs. Cameron or herhusband."
And taking one of his cards from his pocket, Mr. Perkins wrote severalwords on it, and then handed it to Bob.
"If you'll take this card to the offices of the Grand Pacific, which youwill find in the building directly across from the station where wearrive in Chicago, they will give you a pass, which will carry you toany part of Oklahoma you desire to go. I want you to accept it as apresent from me. You can tell them to what place to make it out, and asit will take many hours to reach your destination, I want you to acceptthis money, so that you can buy your food." And he handed Bob atwenty-dollar bill. "If you are careful, you will have something leftwhen you reach that part of Oklahoma to which you decide to go."
Before Bob could recover sufficiently from his surprise to express histhanks, Mr. Perkins had arisen, and saying that it was necessary for himto get off the train at the next station, went back to his car, leavingBob in contemplation of his pass and money.
Bob Chester's Grit; Or, From Ranch to Riches Page 8
