"Why-- there's a hotel. But a young girl like you-- You'll excuse me,
Miss. You're young to be traveling alone."

"Perhaps I haven't money enough to pay for a lodging there?" suggested
Ruth. "I have a dollar. It was given me to spend as I liked on the
way. But Miss True gave me such a big box of luncheon that I did not
want anything."

"A dollar wouldn't go far at the Brick Hotel," murmured the station
agent. He still stared at her, stroking his lean, shaven jaw. Finally
he burst out with: "I tell you! We'll go home and see what my wife
says."

At the moment the station began to jar with the thunder of a coming
train and Ruth could not make herself heard in reply to his proposal.
Besides, Sam Curtis hurried out on the platform. Nor was Ruth ready to
assert her independence and refuse any kind of help the station master
might offer. So she sat down patiently and waited for him.

There were one or two passengers only to disembark from this train and
they went away from the station without even coming into the waiting
room. Then Curtis came back, putting out the lights and locking his
ticket office. The baggage room was already locked and Ruth's old
trunk was in it.

"Come on now, girl-- What's your name?" asked Curtis.

"Ruth Fielding."