Then, half an hour later, when he was not in the least expecting to reach any such place, Ralph came upon a railroad station. There was a small frame building beside a platform and near it a typical western grocery store, which means that it held a great many other things beside groceries.
Ralph was feeling tired and a little hungry. If he was to continue riding about the country all day in this vague fashion, it would be as well to secure food for himself when he could. There was never yet a country store without cheese and crackers.
Ralph tied his pony to the hitching post and strolled up to the door of the store. The door was partly open and he could see a man inside who was probably a customer, as he did not appear to be the proprietor, and was talking with some one.
Ralph walked in and the man stopped talking. He was smoking a short pipe and looked curiously at the newcomer. Ralph’s appearance was a surprise. He looked so exactly like the old-fashioned western phrase which described the Eastern youth as a “tenderfoot.” Ralph’s riding costume was too new, too clean and too fashionable ever to have seen real service. But he knew how to make himself acceptable to most people.
He bowed a curt but friendly nod to the other man as he moved up toward the counter.
“I am a stranger in this part of the country,” he announced, “and I have been riding all morning. I wonder if you can let me eat a little something here?”
The grocery keeper was friendly enough and began shoving out the various supplies that the newcomer had asked for, conscious of the fact that he was a good customer.
Then Ralph climbed up on a stool and began eating his lunch and drinking ginger ale out of the glass bottle. He was enjoying himself a good deal more than he had at many a fashionable luncheon served at an expensive hotel.
By and by he turned to the other man who had not left the store.
“I wonder if you would have a bite with me?” he suggested. “I never did like having to eat alone.”