The words were not out of his mouth, before the private secretary, wheeling abruptly about, disclosed the unwelcome face of Snyder Appleby.
“Well, if this isn’t a pretty go!” he exclaimed, with a sneer. “So you’ve come here looking for work, have you? I’d like to know what you know about railroad business, anyhow? No, sir; you won’t get a job on this road, not if I can help it, and I rather think I can. The best thing for you to do is to go back to Euston, and make up with the old gentleman. He’s soft enough to forgive anything, if you’re only humble enough. As for the idea of you trying to be a railroad man, it’s simply absurd. We want men, not boys, in this business.”
Too surprised and indignant to reply at once to this cruel speech, and fearful lest he should be unable to control his temper if he remained a moment longer in the room, Rodman turned, without a word, and hurried from it. He was choked with a bitter indignation, and could not breathe freely until he was once more outside the building, and in the busy railroad yard.
As he walked mechanically forward, hardly noting, in the raging tumult of his thoughts, whither his steps were tending, a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder, and a hearty voice exclaimed: “Hello, young fellow! Where have you been, and where are you bound? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Here’s your grip that I was just taking to the lost-parcel room.”
It was Brakeman Joe, with Rod’s M. I. P. bag in his hand, and his honest, friendly countenance seemed to the unhappy boy the very most welcome face he had ever seen. They walked together to caboose Number 18, where Rod poured into the sympathizing ears of his railroad friend the story of his day’s experience.
“Well, I’ll be blowed!” exclaimed Brakeman Joe, using Conductor Tobin’s favorite expression, when the boy had finished. “If that isn’t tough luck, then I don’t know what is. But I’ll tell you what we’ll do. I can’t get you a place on the road, of course; but I believe you are just on time for a job, such as it is, that will put a few dollars in your pocket, and keep you for a day or two, besides giving you a chance to pick up some experience of a trainman’s life.”
“Oh, if you only will!——” began the boy, gratefully.
“Better wait till you hear what it is, and we see if we can get it,” interrupted Joe. “You see the way of it is this, there was a gent around here awhile ago with a horse, that he wants to send out on our train, to some place in the western part of the State. I don’t know just where it’s going, but his brother is to meet it at the end of our run, and take charge of it from there. Now the chap that the gent had engaged to look after the horse that far, has gone back on him, and didn’t show up here as he promised, and the man’s looking for somebody else. We’ll just go down to the stock-yard, and if he hasn’t found anybody yet, maybe you can get the job. See?”
Half an hour later it was all arranged. The gentleman was found, and had not yet engaged any one to take the place of his missing man. He was so pleased with Rod’s appearance, besides being so thoroughly satisfied by the flattering recommendations given him by Brakeman Joe, and the master of the stock-yard, who had noticed the boy in the morning, that he readily employed him, offering him five dollars for the trip.
So Rod’s name was written on the way-bill, he helped get the horse, whose name was Juniper, comfortably fixed in the car set apart for him, and then he gladly accepted the gentleman’s invitation to dine with him in a restaurant near by. There he received his final instructions.