ought to pay you for the experience I'm getting here instead of being
paid."

"Young man," spoke Mr. Stirling with affected sternness, but a
twinkling in his eye, "you take your half-pay, make tracks, enjoy
yourself, and don't worry about a trifle of a dollar or two. If you
happen to drop around this way about nine o'clock, I'll be glad of your
company home."

He slipped the money into Bart's pocket and playfully pushed him through
the doorway. Bart's heart was pretty full. He was alive with tenderness
and love for this loyal, patient parent who had not been over kindly
handled by the world in a money way.

Then a dozen loud explosions over on the hill, followed by boyish shouts
of enthusiasm, made Bart remember that he was a boy, with all a boy's
lively interest in the Fourth of July foremost in his thoughts, and he
bounded down the tracks like a whirlwind.




CHAPTER II

"WAKING THE NATIVES!"


Turning the corner of the in-freight house Bart came to a quick halt.

He had nearly run down a man who sat between the rails tying his shoe.