Part 10 (1/2)

”I felt like warning you, my boy,” he said, ”as I saw it was your first long journey.”

”And I'm much obliged to you,” said Roy. ”I wonder how everyone knows I'm a tenderfoot when it comes to traveling on railroad trains?”

”A tenderfoot?”

”Yes, that's what we call persons who don't know much about western life. I suppose their feet get tender from taking such long walks on the plains. Anyhow that means a sort of 'greenhorn' I suppose.

Everyone on the train spots me for that.”

”Well, it is easy to see you are not used to traveling, for you take so much interest in everything, and you show that it is new to you. But you are learning fast. Even an experienced traveler might have been taken in by those gamblers.”

”I guess they'll not bother me any more,” said Roy.

And he was right, but only to a certain extent, for, though the gamblers did not ”bother” him again, he had not seen the last of them, as you shall see.

The tricksters were in a bad mood, and, soon after that they left the smoking room, and remained in another car, so Roy did not see them again that day.

The express continued on, bringing the boy nearer and nearer to Chicago. He wished he might have a little time to spend there, as he had heard much of it, especially the stock yards, where his father sent many head of cattle in the course of a year. But Roy knew he must hurry on to New York, to attend to the business on which he had been sent.

The next morning, soon after breakfast, the train came to a sudden stop, near a small railroad station. As the express did not stop, except at the large cities, Roy wondered if some one like himself, had flagged the engineer. Soon he was aware, however, that something unusual had occurred. Pa.s.sengers began leaving their seats, and went out of the cars.

”I wonder what's the matter?” Roy said aloud. He was overheard by the gentleman who had talked to him about the gamblers, and who had given his name, as John Armstrong.

”I think we've had an accident,” said Mr. Armstrong.

”An accident? Is anybody killed?”

”No, I do not think so. Suppose we get out and see what the trouble is?”

They left their seats, and joined the other pa.s.sengers who were walking toward the head of the train, which was a long one. It did not take many seconds to ascertain that an accident had occurred to the engine of the express, and that it would be necessary to send to the next station to get materials to make repairs.

”That means we'll be held here for some time,” observed Mr. Armstrong.

”Well, if the delay is not too long, it will give you a chance to walk about and stretch your muscles.”

”And I'll be glad enough to do it,” replied Roy. ”I'm not used to sitting still, and it sure is very tiresome to me. I'd like to have my pony, Jack Rabbit, here now. I'd take a fine gallop.”

”Well, I think a walk will have to answer in place of it now. There does not seem to be much in the way of amus.e.m.e.nts at this station.”

The depot was a mere shanty, with a small telegraph and ticket office in it. A few houses and a store made up the ”town,” which was located on the plains.

As Roy started toward the depot many of the pa.s.sengers got back in their cars, as the sun was hot. Roy, however, rather enjoyed it.

Among those who had alighted were Mr. Baker and his three cronies.

They stood on the depot platform, talking together.

”Maybe they're trying to get up some new scheme to get me to gamble,”

thought Roy. As he neared the station his attention was attracted by a rather curious figure.

This was a young man whom Roy at once characterized as a ”dude,” for he and the cowboys had been in the habit of so calling any one who was as well dressed as was the stranger. And Roy at once knew that the man had not been on the train before, as the boy from the ranch had seen all the pa.s.sengers during his journey.