ght
yet. Miss Eltje was right up an' down mad about it, she was. Oh, I tell
you, Mister Rod, you've got a-plenty of friends; an' if you'll only stay
you'll find 'em jest a-swarmin'."

At this Rodman laughed outright, and said: "Dan, you are a fine fellow,
and you have done me good already. Now what I want you to do is just to
stay here and discover some more friends for me. I will manage to let you
know what I am doing; but you must not tell anybody a word about me, nor
where I am, nor anything. Now good-by, and mind, don't say a word about
having seen me, unless Miss Eltje should happen to ask you. If she should,
you might say that I shall always remember her, and be grateful to her for
believing in me. Good-by."

With this Rod plunged down the steep bank to the railroad track, and
disappeared in the darkness. He went in the direction of the next station
to Euston, about five miles away, as he did not wish to be recognized when
he made the attempt to secure a ride on some train to New York. It was to
be an attempt only; for he had not a cent of money in his pockets, and had
no idea of how he should obtain the coveted ride. In addition to being
penniless, he was hungry, and his hunger was increased tenfold by the
knowledge that he had no means of satisfying it. Still he was a boy with
unlimited confidence in himself. He always had fallen on his feet; and,
though this was the worse fix in which he had ever found himself, he had
faith that he would come out of it all right somehow. His heart was
already so much lighter since he had learned from Dan that some of his
friends, and especially Eltje Vanderveer, still believed in him, that his
situation did not seem half so desperate as it had an hour before.

Rod was already enough of a railroad man to know that, as he was going
east, he must walk on the west bound track. By so doing he would be able
to see trains bound west, while they were still at some distance from him,
and would be in no danger from those bound east and overtaking him.

When he was about half a mile from the little station, toward which he was
walking, he heard the long-drawn, far-away whistle of a locomotive. Was it
ahead of him or behind? On account of the bewildering echoes he could not
tell. To settle the question he kneeled down, and placed his ear against
one of rails of the west bound track. It was cold and silent. Then he
tried the east bound track in the same way. This rail seemed to tingle
wi