some kind of a restaurant. Never heard of a town without a place to eat."
But Bob began to think presently that perhaps Chassada differed in more ways than one from the towns to which he was accustomed. In the first place, though every one seemed to have plenty of money—there was a neat and attractive jewelry store conspicuous between a barber shop and a grain store—no one seemed to have to work. The streets were unpaved, the sidewalks of rough boards in many places, in others no walks at all were attempted. Many of the buildings were mere shacks incongruously painted in brilliant colors, and there were more dogs than were ever before gathered into one place. Of that Bob was sure.
"Do you suppose they've all made fortunes in oil?" Betty ventured, scanning the groups of men and boys that filled every doorway and lounged at the corners. "No one is working, Bob. Who runs the wells?"
"Different shifts, I suppose," answered Bob. "I declare, Betty, I'm not so sure that you'll get anything to eat after' all. We'll go back to the station; they may have sandwiches or cake or something like that on sale there."
They turned down another street that led to the station, Bob in the lead. He heard a little
