Joshua had talked with many boys in the House of Refuge who had been tramps. In fact, it seemed that the greater portion of the inmates had been committed because they had run away from home to seek adventures on the road. The stories that they told had fascinated him, and he had stored away much information as to how to conduct oneself in Trampdom. Thus it came about that, while having no practical knowledge of the ups and downs of the vagrant life, he was theoretically fitted for his big adventure.
In the middle of the night the train rolled into Pittsburgh and continued on, and still the traveler remained undisturbed. When morning arrived, however, his first knowledge of daylight came when the side door creaked open suddenly and let in a flood of sunlight, while the train was at a standstill.
“Here, you!” came a challenging voice. “Where you goin’?”
Joshua rose from the floor of the car, tucked his telescope and tripod under his arm, and went toward the door. The head and shoulders of a man showed there, as he looked in from the ground.
“Come on! Make it fast, Jack! Get outa here!”
Joshua’s blue-gray eyes studied the man as he stood back well out of reach.
“Huh!” grunted the trainman. “Who’s road-kid are you?”
“Nobody’s,” Joshua replied. He knew what a road-kid was in the parlance of Trampdom—a boy who travels with an older tramp for his “jocker,” for whom the boy begs and steals, and is paid in brutal kicks and cuffs. They had told him about “punks,” or “road-kids,” and “jockers” in the House of Refuge.
“Well, get out and stay out!”
Joshua watched his chance, and, clutching his burden firmly under an arm, ran to the door and jumped entirely to the ground. The brakeman aimed a kick at him as he struggled to rise from the stooping posture in which he had alighted, but he avoided the man and darted up the tracks toward a little town.