returned the other. "This is the last boat before it starts. You'll have
to hustle if you've any baggage, or are you travelling 'light'?"

But Bob had not waited to hear the comment upon his lack of equipment,
and, before the words had left the mouth of the boatman, was running up
the gangway and into the station.

The glare of the lights after the darkness of the river and the many
people scurrying to and fro, together with the porters and trainmen
calling and shouting, bewildered the lad who had never been so far away
from home before, and he stood in the middle of the station as though
dazed.

Noticing the woe-begone figure, the station policeman walked over to
where Bob was standing.

"What's the matter, kid? Looking for some one?"

"No. I'm going away, to Chicago. I wish you'd tell me where to go to get
a chair car."

"Not running away from home, are you?" inquired the official, scanning
Bob's face searchingly.

This constant suggestion that he was running away angered the boy, and
he determined to put an end to it.

"No, I'm not," he retorted impatiently. "I'm going out West to become a
ranchman, though I don't see why it is any of your business. The man on
the boat told me I would have to hurry if I was going to catch my