sooner you can
decide upon your course of action the better." Thus saying the
kind-hearted, impetuous, and wrong-headed old Major laid a roll of bills
on the table, and left the room.

Fifteen minutes later, or five minutes before Billy Bliss reached the
house, Rod Blake also left the room. The roll of bills lay untouched where
his uncle had placed it, and he carried only his M. I. P. or bicycle
travelling bag, containing the pictures of his parents, a change of
underclothing, and a few trifles that were absolutely his own. He passed
out of the house by a side door, and was seen but by one person as he
plunged into the twilight shadows of the park. Thus, through the gathering
darkness, the poor boy, proud, high-spirited, and, as he thought,
friendless, set forth alone, to fight his battle with the world.

CHAPTER V.

CHOOSING A CAREER.

As Rod Blake, heavy-hearted, and weary, both mentally and physically from
his recent struggles, left his uncle's house, he felt utterly reckless,
and paid no heed to the direction his footsteps were taking. His one idea
was to get away as quickly, and as far as possible, from those who had
treated him so cruelly. "If only the fellows had stood by me," he thought,
"I might have stayed and fought it out. But to have them go back on me,
and take Snyder's word in preference to mine, is too much."

Had the poor boy but known that Billy Bliss was even then hastening to
bear a message of good-will and confidence in him from the "fellows" how
greatly his burden of trial would have been lightened. But he did not
know, and so he pushed blindly on, suffering as much from his own hasty
and ill-considered course of action, as from the more deliberate cruelty
of his adopted cousin. At length he came to the brow of a steep slope
leading down to the railroad, the very one of which Eltje's father was
president. The railroad had always possessed a fascination for him, and he
had often sat on this bank watching the passing trains, wondering at their
speed, and speculating as to their destinations. He had frequently thought
he should like to lead the life of a railroad man, and had been pleased
when the fellows called him "Railroad Blake" on account of his initials.
Now, this idea presented itself to him again more strongly than ever.

An express train thundered by. The ruddy glow from the furnace door of its
locomotive, which was opened at that moment, revealed the engineman seated
in the cab