pon my disordered brain.

About ten o'clock they sent for me to come to the office. I went over
and Webster the agent said the superintendent wanted to see me. I had
never seen the superintendent and he seemed to me to be about as far off
as the President of the United States, but I screwed up my courage and
went in. I saw a kindly-looking gentleman seated before Webster's desk,
but I was too much frightened to speak and just stood there like a bump
on a log. Presently, Mr. Brink, the superintendent, turned to Webster
and said, "I wonder why that night man doesn't come?"

I tremblingly replied, "I am the night man, sir." He looked at me for a
moment and smilingly said, "Why, bless my soul, my lad! I thought you
were a messenger boy." He then asked me for my story of the wreck. When
I had given it he seemed satisfied, and gave me lots of good advice; but
in the end he said I was too young to have the position, and I was
discharged. But he kindly added, that in a few years he would be glad to
have me come back on the road, after I had acquired more experience. The
next day I returned to school.

CHAPTER II

AN ENCOUNTER WITH TRAIN ROBBERS

My first attempt at holding an office had proved such a flat and dismal
failure that I thought I should never have the heart to apply for
another. I worked faithfully in the school for about a month, and then
the fever to try again took hold of me. I knew it would be of no use to
apply to my former superintendent, Mr. Brink, so I wrote to Mr. R. B.
Bunnell, Superintendent of Telegraph of the P. Q. & X. Railroad at
Kansas City, Missouri, saying I was an expert operator and desired a
position on his road. Mr. Bunnell must have been laboring under a
hypnotic spell, for by return mail he wrote, enclosing me a pass to
Alfreda, Kansas, and directing me to assume charge of the night office
at that point at the magnificent salary of $37.50 per month. This was a
slight decrease from my former salary, but I didn't care. I wanted a
chance to redeem myself and I felt confident I could be more successful
in my second attempt. So I packed my few belongings, bade good-bye to
the school forever, and away I went.

When I left "MN," I said nothing to any one about my destination, and I
did not know a thing about Alfreda, except that it was near the border
line between Kansas and Colorado. The brakeman on the train in talking
to me told me it was a very pleasant place; but when he said so I