though it still lacked nearly ten
minutes of the time of starting.

The hungry boy knew well enough where he wanted to go, and what he wanted
to do, now. In about three seconds after leaving the car he was seated at
the railroad lunch-counter, with a cup of coffee, two hard-boiled eggs,
and a big hot roll before him. He could easily have disposed of twice as
much; but prudently determined to save some of his money for another meal,
which he realized, with a sigh, would be demanded by his vigorous appetite
before the day was over.

To his dismay, when he asked the young woman behind the counter how much
he owed for what he had eaten, she answered, "Twenty-five cents, please."
He thought there must be some mistake, and asked her if there was not; but
she answered: "Not at all. Ten cents for coffee, ten for eggs, and five
for the roll." With this she swept Rod's solitary quarter into the
money-drawer, and turned to wait on another customer.

"Well, it costs something to live," thought the boy, ruefully, as he
walked away from the counter. "At that rate I could easily have eaten a
dollar's worth of breakfast, and I certainly sha'n't choose this for my
boarding place, whatever happens."

CHAPTER IX.

GAINING A FOOTHOLD.

Though he could have eaten more, Rod felt decidedly better for the meal so
unexpectedly secured, and made up his mind that now was the time to see
the superintendent and ask for employment. So he made his way to that
gentleman's office, where he was met by a small boy, who told him that the
superintendent had been there a few minutes before, but had gone away with
President Vanderveer.

"When will he be back?" asked Rod.

"Not till he gets ready," was the reply; "but the best time to catch him
is about five o'clock."

For the next six hours poor Rod wandered about the station and the
railroad yard, with nothing to do and nobody to speak to, feeling about as
lonely and uncomfortable as it is possible for a healthy and naturally
light-hearted boy to feel. He strolled into the station twenty times to
study the slow moving hands of its big clock, and never had the hours
appeared to drag along so wearily. When not thus engaged he haunted the
freight yard, mounting the steps of every caboose he saw, in the hope of
recognizing it. At length, to his great joy, shortly before five o'clock
he saw, through a window set in the door of one of these, the
well-remembered interior in which he had spent t