miles distant. Ralph made up a basket of food with the cook's permission.
"Now then, Ned," said Ralph, "you lead the way to your home."
"You won't have me arrested?"
"Not if you have been telling me the truth."
"I haven't," declared the young lad. "It's worse than I tell it. Dad is sick and has no medicine. We have nearly starved."
It was an arduous tramp to the wretched hovel they at last reached. Ralph was shocked as he entered it. It was almost bare of furniture, and the poor old man who lay on a miserable cot was thin, pale and racked with pain.
"I am Ralph Fairbanks, a fireman on the Great Northern," said the young railroader, "and I came with your boy to see what we can do for you."
"A railroader?" said Greenleaf. "I am glad to see you. I was once in that line myself. Crippled in a wreck. Got poor, poorer, bad to worse, and here I am."
"Too bad," said Ralph sympathizingly. "Why have you not asked some of your old comrades to help you?"
"They are kind-hearted men, and did help me for a time, till I became ashamed to impose on their generosity."
