"Yais, sah."
Roy did not know exactly what was meant. At the ranch that word was never used, a bed being a "bunk."
"I don't think I care for any," said Roy, deciding that was the safest way.
"What's that, sah? Youh ain't goin to sit up all night, be youh? Mighty uncomfortable, sah. Better take a bed. Youh ticket calls fo' one, sah."
"Oh, you mean a bunk?"
"Bunk! Ha! Ha! Youh western gen'men gwine to hab youh joke, I see. We calls 'em berths, sah."
"Is mine ready?"
"Jest as soon as youh want it. Youh can go back in de sleeping car."
This Roy understood. He went back two coaches toward the rear, as directed by the porter, and found himself in still another kind of car. This had big plush seats, like small couches, facing each other, while, overhead, was a sort of sloping ceiling.
"I don't see where there are many bunks here," the boy remarked to himself. He saw persons sitting in the seats, talking, and, finding one unoccupied, he took possession of it. Soon a porter came in to him, examined his ticket, and asked: