“I’m going to do what I can, Mr. Obray,” answered Dave.
“And so am I,” added Roger.
Frank Andrews had already told them that a man with a wagon would be sent down to the station for their trunks and suitcases, all of which had been left in charge of the station-master. The youths were taken to one of the buildings not far from the office, and there assigned to a room containing two cots.
“Of course, this isn’t the Biltmore Hotel or the Waldorf Astoria,” remarked Frank Andrews, with a grin. “If you stay out here you’ll have to learn to rough it.”
“We know something about roughing it already,” answered Dave. “If the other fellows can stand it I guess we can.”
“You won’t find it so bad when you get used to it,” answered the man. “Of course, it’s pretty hot during the day, but the nights are quite comfortable. We’ve got a first-class colored cook, so you won’t find yourselves cut short on meals.”
“That’s good news,” answered the senator’s son. “I always thought that a good meal covered a multitude of sins,” and at this misquotation Frank Andrews laughed heartily.
The man had already been despatched to get the baggage, and after it arrived Dave and Roger proceeded to make themselves at home, each donning 227 such clothing as they saw the others of the engineering corps wearing.
“It’s good-bye to boiled shirts and stiff collars,” said Roger, “and I’m not sorry for it.”
“Nor am I,” returned Dave. “I’ll feel much more like working in this comfortable outfit.”