“Then if this fellow rides very far or does any other sort or traveling, we’ll be stumped.”
In a very few minutes the train reached Forty-second Street, and here Ken Greene alighted and rushed over to one of the ticket windows in the Grand Central Terminal. Here he stopped for several minutes and then moved over to another window where Pullman accommodations were to be had.
“Excuse me!” exclaimed Randy, pushing his way up to the first window directly Greene had gone. “Did my friend who was just here get his ticket all right enough?” he asked the clerk while the lady who had expected to be waited on glared at him in anger.
“Who do you mean? The fellow who just got the ticket for the South?” questioned the clerk pleasantly.
“I want to know if he got his ticket all the way through. I want to get mine just like it,” stated Randy.
“You’ll have to take your turn in line.”
“Sure! And I beg your pardon,” went on the Rover boy, bowing to the lady in question politely. “Only I wanted to make sure how far that ticket went. I don’t want to go one way and have him go another. He slipped me in the crowd.”
“He got a ticket to Galveston by the way of St. Louis.”
“Oh, that’s what I wanted to know! Thank you very much,” and Randy slipped out of the crowd and rejoined his brother.
Ken Greene was already leaving the Pullman window, and now the twins saw him turning toward one of the gates leading to the train shed.