“I can’t. He is too heavy.”
The clerk reached for his cigar again, got down from his stool and unlocked the door leading into his room. He came out of it, but He went back in less time than it takes to tell it.
“Good Lord! Do you want to take that beast on the train?” said he. He vanished in his room on the instant and closed the door, all except a little opening through which he talked to Nat. “No, sir. There is not a baggage-smasher on the road who will take charge of that dog between here and St. Louis. You must be crazy.”
“Well, would they take him on a freight train?”
“Cer-tainly not. We want to have some men to handle the freight train when they get to St. Louis, don’t we?”
“I suppose you do; but what is the reason you can’t have them any way?”
“Why, that dog will eat the train men all up, if he once gets in action. No, sir. You can’t take that beast on any train on this road.”
“Then I don’t see any way but for me to go on foot,” said Nat, who was very much disappointed.
“That’s the only way that I know of, unless you will kill the dog.”
“I won’t do that, you bet. Does this road go straight to St. Louis?”