“I am not allowed to do that. I think you will have to get out at the next station.”
The old man was much agitated.
“It is very hard,” he sighed. “I—I don’t know what to do.”
Chester had listened to this conversation with great sympathy for the unfortunate traveler, on account of his age and apparent helplessness.
“How much is the fare to Tacoma from this point?” he asked.
“In the neighborhood of fifty dollars,” answered the conductor.
“Will your son be able to pay this?” asked Chester.
“Oh, yes,” answered the old man. “William has been doin’ well. He is going to build a large hotel in Tacoma—he and another man.”
“Then,” said Chester, “I will advance you what money you need. You can give me a memorandum, so that I can collect it from your son.”
“Heaven bless you, young man!” said the old man, fervently. “You are indeed a friend to me who am but a stranger. I am sure you will prosper.”