"Ob, no indeedy, sah. I allers goes around and collects the gen'men's shoes early, 'fore they gits up. I takes 'em back to my place and I blacks 'em. Den I brings 'em back."
"That's quite an idea," said Roy, now noticing that from under the berths of his fellow travelers the shoes were all missing.
"Yais, sah," went on the colored man. "And sometimes, sah, sometimes, youh know, de gen'men's gives me a little remembrance, sah, for blackenin' their shoes."
"Then I'll do the same," spoke Roy, remembering what Billy Carew had told him of the necessity for "tipping" the car porters.
"Thank youh, sah. I'll have youh shoes back d'rectly, sah."
The porter was as good as his word, and soon Roy was able to put on his shoes, which he hardly recognized. The dust that had accumulated from his ride across the plains to the railroad depot had all been removed, and the leather shone brightly. He gave the porter a quarter of a dollar, for which the colored man returned profuse thanks. Soon the other travelers began to get up. Roy watched them go to the washroom and did likewise. He met Mr. Baker in there, and accepted an invitation to go to breakfast with him in the dining car.
"Did you sleep well last night?" asked the man with the big watch chain.
"Pretty well," replied Roy, deciding to say nothing of the hand that was thrust under his pillow. He first wanted to make a few observations of his fellow passengers.
After breakfast, when Roy was sitting in his chair in the parlor car, Mr. Baker approached.
"There are some friends of mine in the smoking room," he said to the boy. "I would like to introduce you to them."