way in which he made himself at home in the cab as though he belonged there.
"Glad you happened along," chirped the newcomer airily. "I'll keep you company as far as Bridgeport, I guess."
"Will you, now?" questioned Ralph, with a dubious smile.
The lad he addressed was an open-faced, smart-looking boy. He was well dressed and intelligent, and suggested to Ralph the average college or home boy. Certainly there was nothing about him that indicated that he had to work for a living.
"My name is Clark—Marvin Clark," continued the intruder.
Ralph nodded and awaited further disclosures.
"My father is President of the Middletown & Western Railroad," proceeded the stranger.
Ralph did not speak. He smiled slightly, and the keen-eyed intruder noticed this and gave him a sharp look.
"Old racket, eh? Too flimsy?" he propounded with a quizzical but perfectly good-natured grin. "I suppose they play all kinds of official relationships and all that on you fellows, eh?"
"Yes," said Ralph, "we do hear some pretty extravagant stories."
"I suppose so," assented the youth calling him-
