ckskin gloves with which to
handle brake wheels, one of the great tin lunch-pails such as railroad
men carry, and a blanket. Thus equipped he felt he was ready for any
emergency. To these purchases he added a supply of provisions, and a
basket of fruit that he intended to leave for Brakeman Joe when they
should pass the station at which he was.

The train that they were ordered to take came along shortly before sunset.
When it again pulled out, drawing caboose number 18, and with Rod Blake,
brake-stick in hand, standing on the "deck" of one of its rear cars, there
was no happier nor prouder lad than he in the country. How he did enjoy
the novelty of that first ride on top of a freight train, and what a fine
thing it seemed, to be really a railroad man. The night was clear and
cold; but the exercise of setting up brakes on down grades, and throwing
them off for up grades or level stretches, kept him in a glow of warmth.
Then how bright and cosy the interior of the caboose, that was now his
home, seemed during the occasional visits that he paid it.

Before the night grew dark, Conductor Tobin showed him how to place the
two red lanterns on its rear platform, and the lights that showed red
behind, green in front, and green at the side, on its upper rear corners.
Then he was asked to make a fire in the little round stove, and prepare a
huge pot of coffee for the train crew to drink during the night. When
there was nothing else to do he might sit up in the cupola, on the side
opposite to that occupied by Conductor Tobin; but on this first night he
preferred taking his own lantern, and going out on "deck," as the top of
the cars is called. Here he was too far from the locomotive to be annoyed
by its smoke or cinders, and he loved to feel the cool night air rushing
past him. He enjoyed rumbling through the depths of dark forests, and
rattling over bridges or long trestles. It was strange to roll heavily
through sleeping towns, where the only signs of life were the bright
lights of the stations, and the twinkling red, green or white semaphore
lights at the switches.

Some of the time he amused himself by holding his watch in hand, and
counting the clicks of the car wheels over the rail joints; for he
remembered having read that the number of rails passed in twenty seconds
is almost exactly the number of miles run by a train in an hour. If it had
been day time he might also have noted the number of telegraph poles
passed in a