I passed him the bottle of water, and invited him to drink half of it.
The poor fellow eagerly took a long pull at it, passing it back scarcely half full, with a grateful "Thank you."
"I could drink five bottles like that," he said, smacking his lips.
The train now started, preventing further conversation, and I quickly crawled back into the scrap iron car.
The next day about 11 a. m. we pulled into the yards at Los Angeles.
As soon as the train stopped in the yards I jumped out of the car and looked for the man on the rods, but he was gone.
CHAPTER IX.
Thrown Into Jail at Los Angeles.