got to go now that you are started," said the clerk,
pulling a book toward him that contained a list of the passengers, "and
it will take just five dollars to pay your fare to Memphis."

Very reluctantly Tom pulled out his roll of bills and counted out the
five dollars. Then he turned and went out on the guard and seated
himself, almost ready to cry with vexation. Presently his room-mate
appeared, and without saying so much as "By your leave" he drew a chair
close to Tom's side and sat down.

CHAPTER V.

TOM'S LUCK.

"I say, my young friend, what have you been doing that is contrary to
Scribner?"

"I don't understand you, sir," said Tom, starting involuntarily.

"I mean," said the stranger, bending over and whispering the words to
Tom, "what have you been doing that is contrary to law?"

This was a question that Tom never expected to have asked him by
strangers. Did he carry the marks of the cruel wrong he had done his
uncle and Jerry Lamar upon his face so that anybody could read them? The
next time he passed a mirror he would look into it and see.

"What is your name?" asked the stranger suddenly.

"Tom Mason."

"Mine is Bolton--Jasper Bolton; and, Tom, I am glad to see you. Put it
there. What have you been doing?"

"Not a thing, sir. My uncle has got the money back all right before this
time."

"Ah! Money, was it? How much?"

"Five thousand dollars."

"_Five_ thousand dollars! W-h-e-w! You didn't try to kill anybody in
order to get away with it?"

"No, sir. I shot a couple of nigger dogs that were on my trail, but if
you knew the circumstances, you would say I did right," said Tom, who
had suddenly made up his mind to make a confidant of Mr. Bolton. "It was
just this way."

And then Tom straightened around on his seat and faced his new friend
and told him his story, being interrupted occasionally with such
expressions as "Ah! yes," and "I see," which led him to believe that he
was making out a better case against his uncle than he was against
himself.

"I don't want you to think that my uncle is in any way to blame for all
this," said Tom, in conclusion. "I wanted money, I wanted to be revenged
on Jerry Lamar, and so I took it."

"Of course. You ought to have had better sense, seeing that the money
would all be your own some day. Do you know what I think you had better
do?"

Tom replied that he did not.

"I think you had better go home, tell your uncle just what you have told
me,