"We want it with plenty of cash," added the last man, who was called Dennison Tupper.
"This is a green kid, right from the ranch, going to New York," said Phelan Baker. "He's got quite a wad of money, and if you work the game right you may be able to get the most of it. I'll tell you how."
Then the four began to whisper, for they were laying a plot and were afraid of being overheard. All unconscious of the danger that threatened him, Roy was back in the parlor car, enjoying the scenery, and thinking of the many strange things he would see in New York.
For some reason Mr. Baker did not come back where Roy was. Perhaps he feared the boy might be suspicious of his sudden friendship, for Mr. Baker was a good reader of character, and he saw that Roy, in spite of his lack of experience, was a shrewd lad.
As for the young traveler, he began to get tired. He was unused to sitting still so long, and riding in a soft chair was very different from being on the back of the swift pony, galloping over the plains.
"I wonder what they're going to do about bunks?" thought Roy, as he looked about the car. "I don't fancy sleeping on these chairs, and I've heard they made the seats in the coaches up into bunks."
Roy had never seen a sleeping car, and imagined the coach he was in was one. He decided he would ask the porter about it soon, if he saw no signs of the beds being made up. He had his supper alone at a table in the dining car, Mr. Baker remaining with his three cronies, and out of Roy's sight. Profiting by his experience at dinner, the boy knew how to order a good meal.
To his relief, soon after he got back to the parlor car, the porter who had first spoken to him, came up and announced:
"Youh berth will be ready any time youh want it, sah."
"Berth?"