entered the restaurant.




CHAPTER VII

GOOD LUCK FROM BAD


By dint of questioning, Bob reached the Weehawken ferry and was soon on
a boat, gliding through the dark waters of the river toward the Jersey
shore.

Never had the boy been on a ferryboat at night, and the spectacle
presented by the brilliantly lighted buildings filled him with wonder.
Fortunate was it for him that he was so enthralled, for the boat had
bumped into her slip and the people were rushing ashore before he had
time to realize that he was leaving behind all he had ever known of a
home.

Indeed, so absorbed was he in gazing about him, that it was not till one
of the crew exclaimed: "Hey, kid, get ashore. You can't beat your way
back on this boat," that he knew they had reached Weehawken.

"I'm not trying to beat my way," rejoined Bob. "I'm not going back to
New York. I'm going to Chicago--and then to Oklahoma," he added in a
boyish attempt to impress the boatman with his importance.

"Well, you'd better hurry if you want to make the train for Chicago,"