Bob Chester's Grit/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X
BOB DOES A KIND ACT
As the stranger recounted this exciting adventure, Bob's eyes grew larger and larger, and his mouth gaped in wonder. Many a time had he read in story-books of similar attacks by Indians, but the thought that he was actually gazing at a man who had been through such an ordeal seemed too delightful to be true. And so reverentially admiring was his manner toward his travelling companion that the other couldn't but smile good-naturedly.
"Where did you say that place was?" inquired Bob, after a silence of many minutes, as he retold to himself the story of the scar and pictured the scene before his mind's eye.
"Fairfax."
"What part of the state is that?"
"It's about the middle, as east and west goes, but nearer the northern than the southern border."
"Are there—are there any ranches near Fairfax now, do you suppose?"
"I reckon so, though it's more than seven years since I came East."
"Aren't you ever going back there?" inquired Bob, in a tone which said plainly that it was beyond his understanding how a man could give up life on a ranch and settle down to the very ordinary, prosaic life of the East.
For a moment the man looked at Bob searchingly, and then replied:
"I reckon that it's better for my health here in the East."
But the significance of this remark was lost on Bob. For a few minutes he was silent, the expression on his face, however, indicating that he was thinking earnestly, and at last the cause of his deliberation was explained in his question:
"Do you think there are any Indians around Fairfax now?"
"Not the kind there was in the early days when I was out there. The government has tried to make them like white people, and now the Injuns that you would find are either lazy, or they have deteriorated into half-breeds. Once in a while some of the bucks go on a rampage, but not very often."
"I think I'll go to Fairfax," announced Bob after another period of deliberation. "You don't know any one out there with whom you think I could get in to work, do you?"
"No, I can't say as I do, and besides a recommendation from me wouldn't help you any. But I think so long as you have no particular section of the state in mind, that Fairfax would be as good as any."
Bob lost no time in taking advantage of the opportunity afforded by his companion for asking him about the customs of the cowboys and life on a ranch in general, and many were the valuable pointers the stranger gave him, some of which Bob afterwards remembered, but more of which he forgot.
Between Bob's inquiries and the stories which his travelling companion narrated, the morning passed quickly, and what had loomed before the boy as long and dreary hours, seemed but a minute, so entertaining was the stranger.
True to his word, when the train pulled into the station where the stop was made for those passengers who desired to get lunch, the stranger insisted upon Bob getting out and eating with him. And Bob found that the man's appetite was just as keen when he was paying for his food, as when he was eating that provided by others.
After the return to the car, the interesting stories were resumed, and Bob had little opportunity to notice the region through which he was passing, new and unusual to him as was its scenery, save when his attention was called to some striking feature by his companion.
"It won't be long now before we reach Chicago," remarked the man.
"No, I suppose not," admitted Bob with a sigh. "I only wish you were going out to Fairfax with me."
"Oh, well, you'll find, more likely than not, that some of the passengers on the train you take are bound for Oklahoma, and they will probably be able to afford you more assistance and information than I."
The suggestion made by Bob about returning to Oklahoma seemed to make a deep impression upon the stranger, and he lapsed into silence from which he only roused himself after the train had pulled into the station at Chicago, when he jumped up suddenly, grabbed Bob by the shoulder, shook him with a gentle roughness, and murmured:
"Good luck to you, boy, and whatever you do, be straight," and rushed from the car, leaving Bob bewildered by the abruptness of his departure.
Despite the evident mystery which hung over his travelling companion, Bob had felt more at ease when he was with him, and it was with a sense of loss that he saw him leave the car, for the boy had hoped that he would accompany him to the railway offices while he got his pass, and he had even dared to think he might be able to persuade him to make the visit to Mrs. Cameron with him.
But the man's departure had shattered his hopes, and Bob, with a feeling of great loneliness, mechanically followed the other passengers from the car out upon the wide platform. His feeling of isolation was made even more poignant by the hearty greetings which sounded all around him, as one after another of the people who had arrived on the same train were met by their friends or families.
Following the crowd, he passed through the station out onto the sidewalk. There he stood for a moment, searching the windows of the buildings across the street for the name of the railway offices to which Mr. Perkins had directed him.
With little difficulty he spied great gilt letters which formed the words "Grand Pacific Railway," and picking his way carefully through the throng of carriages, automobiles and trucks, which were passing up and down the street, he soon reached the building, and was on the way to the offices in the elevator.
Entering one of the doors, he beheld several handsomely polished desks, at which busy men were seated.
Who the proper person was to whom to present his card for a pass, Bob did not know, but after scrutinizing the faces of the various men in the office, he selected one who seemed kind and pleasant, and was making his way toward him, when he was confronted by a boy several inches smaller than he was, clad in a green uniform trimmed with gold braid, who demanded insolently:
"Here, you! Where do you think you are going? Who do you want to see?"
"I don't know exactly."
During this interchange of words, the office-boy had been scanning Bob and his threadbare clothes contemptuously. And at the lad's reply, he laughed outright, adding:
"Well, if you don't know who you want to see, you can't come in here."
"But I want to get a pass for Fairfax, Oklahoma," protested Bob.
"You get a pass! Say, are you crazy? Only the general managers and the other high officers travel on passes."
"But Mr. Perkins told me to come here," asserted Bob.
To what lengths this determination of the office-boy to get rid of Bob would have gone there is no knowing, for the official whose desk was nearest the railing in front of which Bob stood had been attracted by the unusual occurrence, and as he heard Mr. Perkins' name spoken, he got up, and beckoning to Bob, asked:
"What did you say about Mr. Perkins?"
"I said he told me to come here to get a pass to Fairfax, Oklahoma. That is, he didn't say Fairfax," added Bob truthfully, "he just said I was to get it to any place in Oklahoma where I wanted to go, and I have decided I want to go to Fairfax."
"What is your name?"
"Bob Chester."
"Well, Mr. Perkins has sent us no instructions for issuing you a pass, and until he does, we cannot do anything for you."
And turning on his heel the man walked back to his desk, while the office-boy grinned in delight.
Bob, however, was not to be disposed of so easily, and putting his hand in his pocket, he drew out the card given him by the railroad president, and said:
"But Mr. Perkins gave me instructions to give to you."
The man who had left his desk before paid no attention to Bob's remark, however, and the boy was wondering if, after all, the card would be of no service to him when suddenly the door opened and in walked the porter who had drawn upon himself the anger of the railroad president, the night before, by his treatment of Bob.
As the darky entered, one of the clerks happened to be passing the rail, and he exclaimed:
"Well, Thomas Jefferson, what do you want here?"
"Ah come to get my pay. Ah done been discharged."
"You discharged?" repeated the other incredulously.
"That's what, and by the 'old man' hisself."
"Why?"
"For not treating this hyar gemmen wid de respec' Mr. Perkins thought I ought to when he set hisself down in my parlah cyar, when his ticket done call for the chair cyar."
The tone in which the porter made his reply was so loud that no one in the office could fail to hear it, and as the officials had already received instructions by wire to pay off the darky in full upon his arrival, when they learned that the shabbily-clad boy standing before the rail was the cause of the discharge, they evinced a very lively interest in him.
"The kid was just up here trying to get a pass he said Mr. Perkins had told him to call for," returned the man who had dismissed Bob so abruptly.
"If the gemmen says so, den you'd better give it to him, if you-all don't want to get what Ah got."
Deeming the time had come for again calling attention to his card, Bob exclaimed:
"Mr. Perkins told me I was to present this, when I asked for the pass."
Reaching out his hand for the piece of pasteboard, the man who had refused him before, scanned it hurriedly, and said:
"You should have given me this in the first place. You see, we don't issue many passes now, and we are obliged to be very careful." And, calling to one of his clerks, he gave him instructions for making out the pass to Fairfax, after having learned from Bob that that was the destination to which he wished to go.
"You'd better sit down," said the official, "because it will take a few minutes to get it ready."
Bob was not thinking of himself, however. The idea troubled him of the porter's being discharged on his account, and after a few moments' deliberation, he called to the man who had given the instructions for the writing of his pass, and asked:
"Do you think if I should write a note to Mr. Perkins, that he would change his mind about discharging this man? I don't like to think he should have got into trouble on my account. You see, I don't know much about travelling, and I didn't know a parlor car from a chair car."
Surprised at this consideration for a fellow in a boy so young, the official smiled as he replied:
"I shouldn't be surprised if Mr. Perkins would think about it, if you asked him. He seems to have taken a great fancy to you."
"Then if you will give me a piece of paper, I will write to him."
And when the writing material was provided, Bob, in his crude, boyish hand, wrote:
"Mr. Perkins: You have been very kind to me, but I am sorry you discharged the porter. I wish you would take him back. Please, Mr. Perkins. From your friend,Bob Chester."
In open-mouthed wonder, the porter listened to the conversation between Bob and the official of the railway, and when the note had been written, and was read aloud by the latter, the darky exclaimed:
"Mistah Bob, you sho'ly am kind. Ah'll take that note and go to see Mistah Perkins mahself, and now if you-all would like to see Chicago a little before you take your train, Ah'll surely be most glad to take you 'round."