hours.

It was afternoon when he finally started. He became anxious and weary
from long waiting, and after three stations were passed, he became
nervous, and worried.

"How long before we reach Harrowtown?" he inquired, stopping the busy
conductor.

"At half past eight."

[Illustration: "_How long before we reach Harrowtown?_"]

Another question was upon Mr. Randal's lips, but the conductor was gone.
"Not reach there until evening!" he exclaimed to himself in dismay, "and
pitch dark, for there's no moon now; I shall not know where to go!"

Presently the conductor passed again. "Mr. Conductor, will you kindly
tell me when to get out? I've never been to Harrowtown, and I don't want
to stop at the wrong place."

"Give yourself no uneasiness," was the polite reply, "I'll let you know;
I will not forget you."

Soothed by this assurance, the old man settled back in his seat and
finally went to sleep.

In the seat behind him sat a tall, handsome boy. His name was Albert
Gregory. He was bright and intelligent, but there was an expression of
cruelty about his mouth, and a look about his eyes that was cold and
unfeeling. This lad saw the old man fall asleep, and he nudged his
companion:--

"See here, John, by and by I'll play a good joke on that old country
greeny, and you'll see fun."

On rushed the train; mile after mile was passed. Daylight faded, and the
lamps were lighted in the cars, and still the old man slept, watched by
his purposed tormentor and the other boy, who wanted to see "the fun."

At last the speed of the train began to slacken. They were nearing a
station. Albert sprang up and shook Mr. Randal violently.

"Wake up! wake up!" he called sharply. "This is Harrowtown. You must get
off here!"

Thus roughly roused, the old man started from his seat and gazed around
in a bewildered way. The change from daylight to darkness, the
unaccustomed awakening on a moving train, and the glare of the lights
added tenfold to his confusion.

"Wh--what did you say, boy?" he asked helplessly.

"This is Harrowtown. The place where you want to stop. You must get
off. Be quick, or you'll be carried by."

The noise of the brakes, and ignorance of the real locality on the part
of those near enough to have heard him, prevented any correction of the
boy's cruel falsehood.

Mr. Randal knew it was not the conductor who had aroused him; but,
supposing Albert to be some employee of the road, he hurried to the car
door