ldn't do any good."

"It might. It must!" declared Bart staunchly, "See here, I want to ask
you a few questions and then I want to give you some advice, or rather
tender my very friendly services. Do you know what you have done for me
to-day?"

"No. If I have done anything to help you I am glad of it. You have been
a friend to me--the only friend I've found."

"I'll be a better one--that is, if you will let me," pledged Bart
warmly. "You warned me about the burglars last night; you helped me save
my father's life."

"Anybody would do what I have done."

"No one did but yourself, just the same. Don't be cynical--you're
something of a hero, if you only knew it. It was you who went into the
burning express shed and saved the account books and closed the safe
door."

"Who says so?" muttered Baker.

"I say so, and you know it--don't you?"

Baker made no response.

"Do you know what all this means for me and my family?" went on Bart.
"You have done for me something I can never pay you for, something I can
never forget. You are true blue, Mr. Baker! That's the kind of a
worthless good-for-nothing person you are, and I want to call you my
friend! Hello, now what is the matter?"

The matter was that the roustabout was crying softly like a baby. Bart
was infinitely touched.

"I don't know your secrets," continued Bart earnestly, "and I certainly
shall not pry into them without your permission, but I want to repay
your kindness in some way. I can't rest till I do. All I can do is to
guess out that you are in some trouble, maybe hiding. Well, let me share
your troubles, let me hide you in a more comfortable way than lounging
around cold freight cars with half enough to eat. You've done something
grand in the last twenty-four hours--don't lose sight of that in
mourning over your sins, if you have any, or in running away from some
shadow that scares you. I'm not the only one who thinks you're a hero,
either. There's someone else."

"Is there?" murmured the roustabout weakly.

"There is. It is Mr. Leslie, the express superintendent. I told him
about you. He left this ten dollars for you, and the way he did it ought
to make you proud."

Bart forced the bank note into Baker's hand. The man was shaking like a
leaf from emotion. He stood like one spellbound, unable to take in all
at once the good that was said of him and done him.

"Come," rallied Bart, giving him a ringing slap on the shoulder, "brace
up and be what