than with her pen. But at last the missive was finished, and she gave it
to Bob.

"Don't forget that address: 'South 101st Street, on the left-hand
corner, in a big, yellow brick building.' It's on the side of the
street nearest New York, and the name is Mrs. John Cameron."

Gratefully Bob took the letter, which he placed with the one written by
his father, and as he did so he asked:

"I wonder how much it costs to get to Chicago?"

"Depends on how you travel. You can go in a plain car for about ten or
eleven dollars. That is on one of the round-about railways, at cut
rates. Or, you can pay between fifty and seventy-five dollars for a
state-room."

"Oh, goody! If it only costs ten dollars, I can get out there all right,
and still have some money left."

"I'm glad of that. Now, you sit here a few minutes, and I'll put up a
lunch for you, and then you won't have to buy any food while you are on
the train. They always charge a lot more on trains or in station
restaurants than they ought to."

"Hadn't I better pay you now?" inquired Bob.

"No. You wait until I bring the box of lunch. The boss hasn't noticed
how much you had to eat, and he'll think it's all on the check I will
ring in."