going on a ranch, but I haven't decided quite yet where."
"Folks live out there? Going to friends?"
"No."
"Well, I suppose you know your own business, but taking it all in all, if I was you, I think I'd stay East among people I knew, and whose ways I was used to."
"I don't believe you would if you were me," said Bob, and then tiring of the questioning, he said: "I thought you were going to show me the washroom. I want to be ready when Mr. Perkins sends for me."
Smiling at the manner in which Bob changed the conversation, the brakeman led him to the lavatory, and soon Bob had made his very primitive toilet.
In his endeavor to make himself as presentable as possible, he had washed and wiped his face so vigorously that it almost shone. And no sooner had he finished the task than the brakeman put his head in the door, and said:
"All ready, kid? Mr. Perkins has sent for you."
Going out into the car, Bob saw a negro clad in a suit of immaculate linen.
"Is you Mr. Chester?" asked the darky, restraining the smile Bob's appearance produced.
