"Yes, I have some business there."
His manner was such that the man soon saw the boy did not care to talk about his affairs, and, being a keen observer, too much so for Roy's good, as we shall soon see, the man did not pursue his questioning on those lines.
"Fine scenery," he remarked. "Good, open country around here."
Roy felt that was a safe enough subject to talk about, and he and the man, who introduced himself as Mr. Phelan Baker, spent some time in conversation.
Roy, however, was continually wondering what he should do when the announcement was made that dinner was to be served. He did not want to make any mistakes, and have the car full of passengers laugh at him, yet he did not know what was proper to do under the circumstances.
He had neglected to Inquire how they served meals on trains, and, in fact, had he done so, no one at the ranch could have told him, as not even Mr. Bradner had traveled enough to make it necessary to eat in a dining car.
"If I was back at the ranch I'd know what to do when I heard the grub-call," thought Roy. "But this thing has got me puzzled. It sure has. I wonder if they bring you in sandwiches and coffee, as they did to a party I went to? Or do you have to go up and help yourself? I don't see how they cook anything on a train going as fast as this one. They must have to eat cold victuals. Well, I guess I can stand it for a few days, I've eaten cold bacon and bread when on a round-up, and I'm not going to hold back now. Guess I'll just do as the rest do."
A little while after this a colored man, in a spotless white suit, passed through the parlor car, calling out:
"Dinner is now being served in the dining car. First call for dinner!"
"Well, it's up to me to go to grub now," thought Roy. "I wonder how I'll make out?"