The boy was worse off than he was, though, for Frank had kind-hearted,
affectionate parents, while the farmer boy was motherless. The latter had
eaten half of the orange and was quite engrossed in the book given him.
Frank was about to start another effort to make friends, when the train
came to a station and a passenger came aboard who diverted his interest.

The newcomer was a tall, dark man of middle age. He had a very solemn face
and wore a black tie and choker and clothes that suggested mourning.

There were plenty of vacant seats, but after a sharp look about the coach
this new passenger came to where the farmer sat.

"Seat engaged, sir?" he inquired in a polite, ingratiating way.

"No, sure not," responded the farmer heartily. "Sit down. Glad to have
company."

"I fear I shall not be very good company," observed the new passenger with
a dismal sigh.

"How's that, sir?" questioned the farmer curiously.

"I'm going to a funeral."

"Ah! Nigh relative?"

"Yes; a brother."

"Too bad," commiserated the farmer. "Lost my own brother last year. Bill
was a hustling chap. Missed him dreadfully last plowing season."