"Have you found your ticket?" he asked.
"No."
"Then leave the train at this next stopping-place."
Jasper had no chance to remonstrate. Obeying necessity, he stepped upon the platform, and the train swept on.
THE DESERTED HOUSE.
To be without money is far from pleasant under any circumstances, but to be penniless a thousand miles from home, in the midst of strangers, is far worse. Jasper found himself in this position so unexpectedly that as he stood beside the little depot with his carpet-bag in his hand he felt utterly bewildered.
He looked around him.
Not a house was in sight. Why the railroad company should have established a depot there he could not understand. Probably there must be some village not far away.
No other passenger had got out with Jasper. There was no other person in sight but the station-master, a tall, sallow-faced man, in a slouched hat, who eyed our hero curiously.