Bob wasn't quite sure whether such a plan was all right or not, but he had a healthy boy's appetite for beans, and so he made no objection.
"You are very kind," he said, when the second plate of the savory food was placed before him. "I suppose I shall be hungry sometimes before I get to Oklahoma, but I don't expect to 'hobo' it."
"Then how do you expect to get along? You say you haven't much money."
"I guess I don't just understand what it means to 'hobo' it," admitted Bob.
"No, I guess you don't. It's the name they give out West to travelling when you don't have money enough to pay your railroad fare, and have to beat your way, riding on freight trains."
As Bob heard this explanation of the term, his eyes sparkled with delight, and he said earnestly:
"I'm glad you told me about it. I'd never thought of trying to steal a ride on a freight train."
"For pity sake! How did you expect to get away out there?"
"Walk, unless I could earn money enough in one town to take me to another."
Bob's conversation, which showed such a remarkable ignorance of the world, especially in view of the fact that he was a New York boy, suggested to the waitress that perhaps he had run away from home.
