“Kind o’ knocked you out, hey?” And Jim laughed. “Well, I don’t wonder. Here’s your box. Your train will be ready pretty soon. You wait here till I come for you.”
For the first time that day, Tommy felt the pangs of hunger,—his body demanded sustenance after all this excitement,—and he opened his box and did full justice to the chicken sandwiches and cakes and cheese he found within. He was wrapping up the remains of the lunch when Jim called him.
“Come on, Tommy; here’s your train,” he said, and Tommy hurried out upon the platform, where a long train stood ready for its trip to New York. He entered the coach, bade Jim good-by, and sat down in one of the seats. Through the window he could see the crowd hurrying to and fro along the platform. A train puffed in on the adjoining track and disgorged its living freight. Great trucks, piled high with baggage, were wheeled by. Then came the far-away voice of the conductor, a scurrying of belated passengers, and the train glided slowly out of the station. Evening had come, and along the streets the electric lamps sprang suddenly alight. Great crowds of men and women were leaving the government buildings, with one more day’s labor accomplished. It was all new and strange; but even as he looked, a great weariness crept upon him,—the weariness which follows unaccustomed excitement,—his head fell back against the seat, and he was sound asleep. He was vaguely conscious of the conductor getting his ticket from him, but he knew no more until he felt some one roughly shaking him.
“Wake up, youngster,” called a voice in his ear. “We’ll be at Trenton in a minute. You have to get off there.”
Tommy sat up and rubbed his eyes. The bright lights in the coach dazzled him, but he was pulled to his feet and led toward the door.
“Wait a minute, now,” said the voice.
Then came the little shock that told that the brakes had been applied, and the train stopped.
“Now mind the steps,” said the voice, and Tommy was hustled down to the platform. “There you are.” And before he quite realized it, the train was speeding away again through the darkness. He looked about him. Back of him extended what seemed to be a long shed. The station was on the other side of the tracks, as he could see by the gleaming lights, but there seemed no way to get to it, for two high fences had been built to prevent passengers crossing.
“Where are you bound for, youngster?” asked a voice.
“Lawrenceville,” answered Tommy; and rubbing his eyes desperately, he finally managed to make out another man in blue uniform.