Jack counted out his share of the rent, and Julian posted off to see the landlady. He was gone a long time, but he came back with a receipt in his hand which he showed Jack, and then the two boys went out to get their dinner. Jack ordered what he had said he would; but anyone who could have seen what Julian sent for would have thought he was a millionaire already. Jack looked on but did not say anything; he was old enough to know that the change in Julian's circumstances would make him reckless for a while. He remarked that he might as well go down to the shop and bid the fellows good-bye, and then it would be done with; so they turned their faces in that direction when they came out, and in a short time they were among the railroad shops. Jack knew where to go; and, after leading his companion through a long workshop, where Julian would certainly have got in somebody's way if he had not stuck close to his heels, finally ushered him into the helpers' room. He shook hands with them one after the other—dirty, begrimed fellows they were, too, looking very unlike the well-dressed men they were when dressed up for Sundays—and presently he came to the master mechanic. The latter threw his arm around Jack, led him away out of earshot of the others, and held an earnest conversation with him. He even put his hand into his pocket, but Jack shook his head and turned away.
"Come on, Julian; I guess I have said good-bye to them all," said he, as he led the way to the street. "Every one of those fellows wanted to give me money—as if they didn't know I have enough already. Well, I hope the last one of them will be successful. If they want any money, they can apply to me."
Julian had never seen Jack look sad before. After going a little way on the street, Jack turned and looked at the shop as if he thought he never would see it again. Julian did not know that Jack had so much heart in him.
The next day was devoted to Julian, who went down to the office and took leave of all his friends. Even the boy who had accused him of being a spy came in for a good, hearty hand-shake. He did not know how to take it, but stammered out something about being sorry he had treated Julian in the way he did.
"That's all right," said the boy; "only, the next time don't you accuse any boy of being a spy on you unless you know whereof you speak."
Mr. Wiggins had something more to say to Julian. He conducted him into the back room, and kept him there until Jack began to be impatient. When he came out again, Julian was wiping his eyes.
"I tell you, Jack," said he, when they were well on their way to the railroad depot to purchase their tickets, "when one has been here and done the best he could in the office, it comes hard to say good-bye. Every boy—and man, too—has used me white, if I except that fellow who accused me of being a spy. But this isn't the last time we will see St. Louis, I hope. When we get out to Denver, and get fairly settled, we will come back again."
The friends waited a long time at the depot, for the ticket office was not open; but they had much to talk about. What sort of a looking place was Denver? They had not read much about that, and they had somehow got it into their heads that it was a little settlement, and that they should find more wigwams there than houses. But at last the window was opened, and, falling in behind the others, they purchased tickets which were to carry them farther west than they had ever been before.
"Now, the next thing is to get a sleeping-car," said Julian.
"We don't want a sleeping-car," said Jack, catching Julian by the arm and leading him away. "You can lie down on one seat, and I can take the other, and we'll sleep just as well there as we would on a pile of down."