The Erie Train Boy

"Do you have many experiences like this?" asked the young lady, with a smile.

"Yes, miss, quite frequently," aid Fred, "and it isn't the poor passengers that try to cheat me. Sometimes I travel on emigrant trains, but I never lost a cent by an emigrant. It is those who are able to pay, like this man, who try to take advantage of me."

"Do you make good pay?"

"I average about a dollar a day."

"I suppose that is fair pay for a boy of your age."

"Yes, it is; but I need it all. I have a mother and brother to support."

"Have you, indeed?" said the young lady sympathetically. "You can't all three live on six dollars a week."

"Mother earns a little by sewing, but that isn't paid very well."

"Very true. So you sometimes get into difficulties?"

"We are in difficulties now. The rent is due, and we lack three dollars to make it up."

"That is easily remedied," said the young lady. "It is my birthday to-day, and I shall allow myself the luxury of doing good. Here are five dollars which you will use to pay the landlord."

"Thank you, miss," said Fred gladly. "You have lifted a weight from my mind. Our landlord is a strict man, and I was afraid we would be turned out on the street."

"Miss, will you let me shake hands with you? You're a trump!"

It was the western miner who spoke, and he had come forward impulsively from his seat, and was extending a rough, sunburned hand to the young lady.

She did not hesitate a moment, but with a pleasant smile placed her hand in his.

"I wish all high-toned gals was like you, miss," said the miner, as he shook her hand heartily.

"I am sure you would do the same, sir," said Isabel Archer.

"Yes, I would, and I meant to if you hadn't got the start of me. You'll excuse the liberty I took," said the miner.

"Oh, yes, certainly."

"I'm a rough miner, but – "

"You are a kind-hearted man. You may hereafter have it in your power to help the boy."

"So I can," and the miner retreated to his seat.

Arrived at the Erie depot, Fred found his little brother waiting for him.

"Oh, Fred," he said, "I hope you've got money for the rent. The landlord said he would turn us out at seven o'clock if we didn't pay."

"And I am a little late," said Fred, anxiously.

"Let me go with you!" said the miner, "I want to see what sort of a critter your landlord is. The mean scoundrel! It would do me good to shake him out of his boots."

Zebulon Mack and his assistant had just succeeded in placing the bureau on the sidewalk when Fred and his mining friend turned the corner of the street.

"There's mother's bureau!" exclaimed Fred in excitement. "He's begun to move us out."

"He has, hey?" said Sloan the miner. "We'll soon stop that."

"What are you doing here?" demanded Fred, hurrying up.

Zebulon Mack turned round, and eyed the boy with an ugly frown.

"I told your mother I'd move her out, and I've done it."

"Why didn't you wait for me? I've got the money."

"You have?"

"Yes, I have."

"Pay it over, then."

Fred was about to do so when the miner interposed.

"Don't pay him till he carries back the bureau!" said Sloan.

"You and your friend can do that!" said the landlord.

"If you don't catch hold of that bureau and take it back I'll wring your neck, you mean scoundrel!" said the miner sternly.

Zebulon Mack looked into the miner's face and thought it wisest to obey.

"Here, Finnegan!" he said sullenly. "Take hold, and don't be all night about it."

When the bureau was in place, Fred, who had changed the five-dollar bill, handed Mr. Mack the three dollars.

"Now, my friend," said the miner, "you can reckon up how much you made by your meanness. You and that understrapper of yours must enjoy moving bureaus. I only wish you'd got down the rest of the furniture, so that I might have the satisfaction of seeing you carry it back."

The landlord glared at Tom Sloan as if he would like to tear him to pieces. But he took it out in looks.

"Good night, sir," said the miner, "we don't care to have the pleasure of your company any longer."

"I'll be even with you for all this," growled Mack.

"Don't feel bad, squire. You've got your money."

"Mother," said Fred, "this is my friend, Mr. Sloan."

"I am glad to see any friend of my boy," said Mrs. Fenton. "Won't you stay and take supper with Fred?"