ket.

So, presently, Zeke, found himself seated for the first time on the
red plush seat of a railway carriage. The initial stage of his journey
was ended; the second was begun.

CHAPTER III

The right of way from North Wilkesboro' to Greensboro' runs through a
region where every vista delights the eye with wild and romantic
scenes. The rails follow the course of the upper reaches of the Yadkin
River, with swift succession of vicious curves and heavy grades. The
twistings of the road-bed, so advantageous for presenting the varied
loveliness of the wilds, were by way of being a real torture to the
young adventurer, who sat in seeming stolidity near the rear door of
the smoking-car, with the black bag between his feet. Even experienced
travelers found the lunges of the train trying to their nerves as it
shot at speed around "hairpin" bends, or hurled itself to the fall of
a steeper descent. To Zeke, who for the first time knew the roar and
jolt of such travel, this trip was a fearsome thing. To sit movelessly
there, while the car reeled recklessly on the edge of abysses, was a
supreme trial of self-control. The racking peril fairly sickened him.
A mad impulse of flight surged in him. Yet, not for worlds would he
have let anyone guess his miserable alarm.

Nevertheless, one there was who apprehended in some measure the ordeal
through which the mountaineer was passing--happily, a kindly observer.
An elderly man, across the aisle from Zeke, regarded his fellow
passenger with particular intentness. It seemed to him that, in some
vague way, the clean-cut face was familiar. His curiosity thus
aroused, he perceived the tenseness of expression and attitude, and
shrewdly suspected the truth. It was with benevolent intent, rather
than for the gratification of inquisitiveness, that he finally got up
and seated himself in the vacant place alongside the younger man.

Zeke's perturbation caused him to start nervously at this advent of a
stranger, but a single glance into the wrinkled, yet hale, face of the
man reassured him. The visitor's amiable character showed plainly in
his dim blue eyes, which twinkled merrily. Moreover, there was a sure
witness of worth in the empty sleeve, pinned to his left breast, on
which showed the cross of honor. The humor lurking in the eyes was
grotesquely manifested in his first address:

"This-hyar railroad hain't no fitten one fer beginners," he announced,
with a chuckle. "Hit's plumb li