or I am sure that at least two of the party know me."

For three hours they made a tour of the district, taking in nearly
four miles to the south. The swamp lands they could not traverse.
Finally they came out of the woods almost directly on a town.

"Why," said Ralph in some surprise, "here is Millville, the next
station to Brocton."

"That's so," nodded Zeph. "I hardly think those fellows are in the
woods. We have made a pretty thorough search."

"There's the swamp and the high cliffs we haven't visited," said
Ralph. "I suppose you are hungry?"

"Moderately," answered Zeph.

"Then we will go and have something to eat. I have a friend just on
the edge of Millville, who keeps a very unique restaurant."

Ralph smiled pleasantly, for the restaurant in question was quite a
feature with railroad men.

Two lines of railroad crossed at Millville, a great deal of switching
was done outside of the town, and there was a shanty there to shelter
the men.

A little off from the junction was a very queer-looking house, if it
could be called such. Its main structure was an old freight car, to
which there had been additions made from time to time. Across its
front was a sign reading, "Limpy Joe's Railroad Restaurant."

"Ever taken a meal here?" inquired Ralph, as they approached the
place.

"No."

"Ever heard of Limpy Joe?"

"Don't think I have."

"Then," said Ralph, "I am going to introduce you to the most
interesting boy you ever met."

CHAPTER VII

LIMPY JOE'S RAILROAD RESTAURANT

Zeph Dallas stared about him in profound bewilderment and interest as
Ralph led the way towards Limpy Joe's Railroad Restaurant.

It was certainly an odd-appearing place. Additions had been built onto
the freight car until the same were longer than the original
structure.

A square of about two hundred feet was enclosed by a barbed wire
fence, and this space was quite as interesting as the restaurant
building.

There was a rude shack, which seemed to answer for a barn, a haystack
beside it, and a well-appearing vegetable garden. Then, in one corner
of the yard, was a heap of old lumber, stone, brick, doors, window
sash, in fact, it looked as if some one had been gathering all the
unmated parts of various houses he could find.

The restaurant was neatly painted a regular, dark-red freight-car
color outside. Into it many windows had been cut, and a glance through
the open doorway showed an interior scrupulously neat and