“I mustn’t hang around here,” thought Jack. “They’ll probably be watching the railroad stations. I’ve got to walk about and think a bit.”
He hardly noticed where he turned his steps, but he was brought out of his unpleasant day-dream by hearing some one address him.
“What’s de matter, cully?” a voice asked. “You look sort of cheesy.”
Jack saw that the speaker was a tramp, but rather a good-natured looking one, and not quite so dirty and disreputable as the average. The boy also noticed, for the first time, that he was passing along a street which bordered the railroad freight yard, and that there were long strings of cars on a track adjoining the sidewalk.
“Down on yer luck?” asked the man.
Jack nodded.
“What’s de matter?” went on the tramp. “Runaway, an’ sorry fer it?”
“I’m not a bit sorry,” answered Jack, as he thought of the mean professor. “But I want to get out of town, and I’ve lost all my money.”
“Oh, dat’s easy,” remarked the tramp, though whether he referred to losing the money or getting out of town, Jack was not quite sure.
“If you want t’ make a git-away, I kin fix youse up,” went on the ragged man.