"You are very kind," he said, when the second plate of the savory food
was placed before him. "I suppose I shall be hungry sometimes before I
get to Oklahoma, but I don't expect to 'hobo' it."

"Then how do you expect to get along? You say you haven't much money."

"I guess I don't just understand what it means to 'hobo' it," admitted
Bob.

"No, I guess you don't. It's the name they give out West to travelling
when you don't have money enough to pay your railroad fare, and have to
beat your way, riding on freight trains."

As Bob heard this explanation of the term, his eyes sparkled with
delight, and he said earnestly:

"I'm glad you told me about it. I'd never thought of trying to steal a
ride on a freight train."

"For pity sake! How did you expect to get away out there?"

"Walk, unless I could earn money enough in one town to take me to
another."

Bob's conversation, which showed such a remarkable ignorance of the
world, especially in view of the fact that he was a New York boy,
suggested to the waitress that perhaps he had run away from home.

Determined to find out, she banished the sympathetic smile from her
face, and becoming very severe, leaned across the table and gazing