whose husband runs as far as Kansas City
on a freight train. I'll give you a note to her, and her man will give
you a lift, and probably he can arrange with some of the men he knows to
carry you west from Kansas City."

"That will be very kind of you," returned Bob. "It seems as though
strangers are kinder to me than people I've known all my life."

"That's often the way," exclaimed the girl, as she rose and went up to
the desk in the front of the restaurant, where she obtained some paper,
an envelope, and pen and ink, which she brought back to Bob's table.

It was evident from the slowness with which her self-imposed task
advanced that the girl was more ready with her kind-hearted sympathy
than with her pen. But at last the missive was finished, and she gave it
to Bob.

"Don't forget that address: 'South 101st Street, on the left-hand
corner, in a big, yellow brick building.' It's on the side of the
street nearest New York, and the name is Mrs. John Cameron."

Gratefully Bob took the letter, which he placed with the one written by
his father, and as he did so he asked:

"I wonder how much it costs to get to Chicago?"

"Depends on how you travel. You can go in a plain car for about ten or
eleven dollars. That is on one of the round-about railways, at cut
rates. Or, you can pay between fifty and seventy-five dollars for a
state-room."

"Oh, goody! If it only costs ten dollars, I can get out there all right,
and still have some money left."

"I'm glad of that. Now, you sit here a few minutes, and I'll put up a
lunch for you, and then you won't have to buy any food while you are on
the train. They always charge a lot more on trains or in station
restaurants than they ought to."

"Hadn't I better pay you now?" inquired Bob.

"No. You wait until I bring the box of lunch. The boss hasn't noticed
how much you had to eat, and he'll think it's all on the check I will
ring in."

"But that isn't exactly right, is it?" protested Bob.

"Well, I'll make it right with the boss."

So well were things working out for him, that it seemed to Bob that he
must be in a dream, but the sight of the people and objects about him
told him that it was indeed a reality.

In due course the kind waitress returned, bringing a sizeable box,
tightly tied, which she placed on the table before him.

"Here, kiddo, I wish you good luck," she said. "I must leave you now,
because I've got some more work to do."

"But you must tell me yo