Out For Business or Robert Frost's Strange Career

"You are right."

"Tell me all about it."

"I will. I should like to ask somebody's advice. I want to know whether I have done right."

"Go ahead, my lad."

Robert told the story, and the miner listened attentively.

"Do you know what I think of that step-father of yours?"

"Tell me."

"I think he is about as mean a skunk as I ever heard mentioned. What made your mother marry him?"

"I don't know. She must have been infatuated."

"I suppose you had an easy time at home."

"Yes, I did."

"And now you will have to work for a living?"

"Yes, but I don't mind that."

"I see you're the right sort," said the miner approvingly.

They had reached the next station. In the next car there was a tumult and a noise as of men scuffling. The miner rose and opened the door of the car.

He and Robert saw the two men who had tried to swindle our hero in the hands of two angry men, who hustled them out of the car with such violence that they fell prostrate beside the track.

"What's the matter?" asked the miner.

"These men tried to relieve me of my watch. They won't try it again in a hurry."

Bruised by the fall, the two men picked themselves up and slunk away.

"They're a precious pair of rascals," said the miner. "If we had them at the mines, they would soon dangle from the branch of a tree."

CHAPTER VIII.

PERIL

Jones and Barlow, the two men who had been so ignominiously expelled from the train, picked themselves up, and with faces flaming with anger shook their fists at the train in impotent wrath.

"This is an outrage, Jones," said Barlow, the taller of the two.

"So it is," said Jones, rubbing his knee, which had received an abrasion from falling on a flinty stone.

"They don't know how to treat a gentleman."

"No, they don't. You're right, Barlow."

"I suppose the boy and that long-legged miner are laughing in their sleeves."

As he spoke, both turned their glances upon the car in which Robert and the miner were located, and saw both looking out of a car window. The miner's face wore a look of amusement and satisfaction, which was enough to anger the two adventurers.

"Good-by, boys!" he said. "You're leaving us in a hurry, but we won't forget you."

In reply, Jones, who was the more choleric of the two, shook his fist at the miner, but did not indulge himself in any remarks. His feelings were probably too deep for words.

"What shall we do, Barlow?" he asked.

"Foot it to the next station, I reckon. I'm used to walkin', aint you?"

"I've done a little of it in my time," said Jones, with a grin.

"Then we can take the next train that comes along. That cursed miner won't be on board, and we can be received as gentlemen."

"Say, have you got a clothes-brush, Barlow? My knees—that is the knees of my pants—are all over mud."

"So are mine. Yes, I believe I have, but don't let us repair damages here. They will be looking out of the car-windows and laughing at us."

"Go ahead, then. I'll follow."

They started in the direction in which the train was going. Two minutes later they fell in with a young Irish boy, who surveyed their dilapidated appearance with amusement.

"Say," he remarked, "have youse been racin' wid de train?"

"Why do you ask, boy?" inquired Barlow with lofty dignity.

"I take it all back. I guess you've been on your knees prayin'."

"Boy, don't you know how to address a gentleman?"

"Where's the gentleman?" inquired the youth, with a vacant look.

"Jones, chase that boy and give him a lesson."

Jones undertook to do so, but he was short and fat, and the boy easily eluded him. He climbed over a fence on one side of the railway, and began to make faces at the pair.

"What would you have done to me if you had caught me?" he asked in a mocking and derisive tone.

"Given you a first-class thrashing," growled Jones.

"Then I'm glad you didn't catch me. Say, I saw you get out of the train."

"Suppose you did?"