"Yes," said Sam, at a venture. "How soon does the train start?"
"In about half an hour. Hold on, though; that's the New York train, and don't stop at Warwick."
"I guess I'll be goin," said Sam, hurriedly. "Where's the depot?"
"Half a mile straight ahead, but you needn't hurry. The train for Warwick don't go till ten."
"Never mind. I want to see the New York train start;" and Sam hurried off eating crackers as he walked.
"I'm glad the train starts so quick," thought Sam. "I don't want to wait round here long. I might meet somebody that knows me."
He had no difficulty in finding the depot. It was a plain building, about twenty by thirty feet, with a piazza on the side towards the track. He entered, and going up to the ticket-office asked for a ticket to New York.
"For yourself?" asked the station-master.
"Yes," said Sam.
"How old are you?"