they proceeded up the
stairway and at last came upon a returning porter who gave them their
direction. By the time they had reached the transfer company's office
they had walked so far that Tom wondered whether most of the city was
not contained inside the station!

Presently, though, he saw that it wasn't. For they found themselves
standing outside the terminal on a street that stretched, apparently,
for millions of miles in each direction! They had received detailed
advice from the man in the transfer company's office as to the best
method of reaching the Grand Central Station, and the directions had
sounded quite easy to follow. But now the feat didn't look so simple,
for the man had told them to take a car going in a certain direction and
there wasn't a car in sight! Moreover, when Tom came to look for
car-tracks there weren't any! He pointed out the fact to Steve, and
Steve, at first a bit dismayed, at last shrugged his shoulders and
observed his chum pityingly.

"You don't suppose all the cars in this town run on tracks, do you?" he
asked.

"What do they run on then?"

"Why--er--you wait and see!"

"That's all right, but it's almost three o'clock and our train goes from
the other station at a quarter-past, and----"

"Well, we'll ask someone," said Steve. But, oddly enough, there was no
one to ask. For a town as large as New York that block of street was
strangely deserted. A team or two passed and an elderly woman crept by
on the opposite sidewalk, but no one came near them. Finally Steve
muttered:

"Looks to me as if we were on the wrong street. Maybe there are two
doors to this old station, Tom."

"Of course there are! Let's walk down to that corner. There goes a car
now!" And Tom, as though his future happiness depended on catching that
particular car, seized his bag and started down the street at a run.
Steve followed more leisurely, and when he reached the corner Tom was
talking to a policeman. It was all very simple. They had made the
mistake of leaving the terminal by a wrong exit and had emerged on to a
cross-town street. After that it was easy. A car lumbered up, the
policeman stopped it for them, they climbed aboard, were hurled half the
length of the aisle and fell into seats. A few minutes later they
transferred to a cross-town line without misadventure.

"They certainly make you step lively in this town," panted Tom,
clutching a strap and narrowly avoiding a seat in the lap of a very
stou