"A little," Bunny answered. "I don't like this car."
"I don't, either!" joined in Sue. "It hasn't any nice seats, and there isn't any carpet on the floor."
"And you can't look out any windows," added her brother.
"No," agreed Nutty, with a laugh. "Freight cars aren't very good places from which to see scenery when you travel. But I'm glad there aren't any windows. If there were the railroad men could look in and see us, and then they'd put me off."
"What for?" Bunny wanted to know.
"Well, because I'm a tramp, for one thing. And because I haven't any ticket for another. I'm sort of stealing a ride, you know, and the railroad men don't like that. If they saw me they'd put me off."
Without saying anything Bunny arose and started across the swaying car toward the partly opened door—the door which showed a crack of light, though the crack was not big enough to let Bunny or Sue squeeze through.
"Where are you going, Bunny?" asked Nutty.
"I'm going to stand by this door," answered the little boy, "and maybe a railroad man will see me and put me off. That's what I want to do—I want to get off this train!"
"Yes," said Nutty, in a kind voice, "I suppose that is what you want to do—get off. And you ought to be sent back to your mother. I wish I could help you. But I'm afraid."