“That’s part of the uniform out there,” broke in Roy. “But I’ll be careful,” he added, smiling again. “Another thing I’m bothering about now is, where will I get the money to buy my railroad ticket? And can I borrow enough from some one to get the outfit I need?”
“I suppose Mr. Cook’s company’ll pay your car fare. As for the other—I’ll advance it. What do you think you’ll need?” asked his father.
“I suppose,” said Roy slowly, “it’ll take one hundred dollars outside of my car fare.”
Mr. Osborne whistled and Mrs. Osborne’s face assumed a doubtful look.
“You know we aren’t rich, Roy,” his mother began.
“Pshaw, mother,” Roy exclaimed, springing to his feet, “don’t you worry about that. If you and father can spare the one hundred dollars, let me have it. I ain’t goin’ out west just to work for wages. That’s the greatest country in the world for a young man. Why, mother, I may discover something—a gold mine, perhaps.”
His father smiled.
“Do you know what you need?”
“I’ll have a list in an hour.”
“All right. Make it out. Find what your things will cost and come to the factory. We’ll have a talk with Mr. Atkinson.”