from his
brain, that his body, wearied by the unusual events through which he had
passed, grew quiet, and he finally dropped off to sleep.

The motion of the train and frequent stops affected him not at all, and
as soundly as though he were in the bed at the rear of the grocer's
shop, he slept through the night.

Mindful of Mr. Perkins' request that he look after Bob, the brakeman
brought a coat with which he covered the boy, as the chill of night
settled on the car, and several times as he passed he tucked it about
Bob, when his moving had caused it to slide to the floor.

About seven o'clock in the morning the trainman, after having waited in
vain for Bob to wake of his own accord, shook him gently by the
shoulder, exclaiming:

"Come, son, it's time you were up and doing, if you are going to have
breakfast with the 'old man.' He is liable to send in any time for you
now, and after you have known him as long as I have, you'll learn that
he doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"But where am I going to wash my face and hands? Doesn't the train stop
at the station?"

At this naive question, the brakeman looked at Bob for a moment, and
then chuckling heartily to himself, exclaimed:

"Say, kid, are you trying to jolly me, or have you been kept in a glass
cage all your life? Don't you know that they have washrooms on the
trains?"

"No. This is the first time I have ever taken a journey on a train in my
life."

"Where are you going?"

"To Chicago, first, and then out to Oklahoma."

"Well, that's far enough, so that if you don't know anything about
travelling now, you will when you get there. What part of Oklahoma are
you going to?"

"I don't just know exactly," and then, his breast swelling with pride,
he continued: "I'm going on a ranch, but I haven't decided quite yet
where."

"Folks live out there? Going to friends?"

"No."

"Well, I suppose you know your own business, but taking it all in all,
if I was you, I think I'd stay East among people I knew, and whose ways
I was used to."

"I don't believe you would if you were me," said Bob, and then tiring of
the questioning, he said: "I thought you were going to show me the
washroom. I want to be ready when Mr. Perkins sends for me."

Smiling at the manner in which Bob changed the conversation, the
brakeman led him to the lavatory, and soon Bob had made his very
primitive toilet.

In his endeavor to make himself as presentable as possible, he had
washe