Joe had never spent much of his time on the railroad, so the long ride had much of novelty in it. The scenery was grand, as they wound in and out among the hills and mountains, or crossed brooks and rivers and well-kept farms. Numerous stops were made, and long before Philadelphia was gained the train became crowded.
“Nice day for riding,” said a man who sat down beside our hero. He looked to be what he was, a prosperous farmer.
“It is,” answered Joe.
“Goin’ to Philadelphy, I reckon,” went on the farmer.
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s where I’m going, too. Got a little business to attend to.”
“I am going there to try my luck,” said Joe, he felt he could talk to the old man with confidence.
“Goin’ to look fer a job, eh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wot kin ye do, if I might ask?”
“Oh, I’m willing to do most anything. I’ve been taking care of rowboats and working around a summer hotel, at Lake Tandy.”
“Well, ye won’t git many boats to look at down to Philadelphy!” and the old farmer chuckled.
“I suppose not. Maybe I’ll strike a job at one of the hotels.”
“Perhaps. They tell me some hotels down there is monsterous–ten an’ twelve stories high. Ye don’t catch me goin’ to no sech place. In case o’ fire, it’s all up with ye, if you’re on the twelfth story.”
“Are you going to Philadelphia to stay, Mr. —-”
“Bean is my name–Josiah Bean. I’m from Haydown Center, I am. Got a farm there o’ a hundred acres.”
“Oh, is that so!”
“Wot’s your handle, young man?”
“My name is Joe Bodley. I came from Riverside.”
“Proud to know you.” And Josiah Bean shook hands. “No, I ain’t going to stay in Philadelphy. I’m a going on business fer my wife. A relative left her some property an’ I’m a-goin’ to collect on it.”
“That’s a pleasant trip to be on,” was our hero’s comment.
“I’ll feel better when I have the six hundred dollars in my fist. I’m afraid it ain’t goin’ to be no easy matter to git it.”
“What’s the trouble!”
“I ain’t known in Philadelphy an’ they tell me a feller has got to be identified or somethin’ like thet–somebody has got to speak for ye wot knows ye.”
“I see. Perhaps you’ll meet some friend.”
“Thet’s wot I’m hopin’ fer.”
The train rolled on and presently Joe got out his map and began to study it, so that he might know something of the great city when he arrived there.
“Guess I’ll git a drink o’ water,” said Josiah Bean, and walked to the end of the car to do so. Immediately a slick looking man who had been seated behind the farmer arose and followed him.
CHAPTER XIV.
A SCENE ON THE TRAIN.
THE slick-looking individual had listened attentively to all that passed between our hero and the farmer.
He waited until the latter had procured his drink of water and then rushed up with a smile on his face.
“I declare!” he exclaimed. “How do you do?” And he extended his hand.
“How do you do?” repeated the farmer, shaking hands slowly. He felt much perplexed, for he could not remember having met the other man before.
“How are matters up on the farm,” went on the stranger.
“Thank you, very good.”
“I–er–I don’t think you remember me, Mr. Bean,” went on the slick-looking individual.
“Well, somehow I think I know your face,” answered the old farmer, lamely. He did not wish to appear wanting in politeness.
“You ought to remember me. I spent some time in Haydown Center year before last, selling machines.”
“Oh, you had them patent reapers, is that it?”
“You’ve struck it.”
“I remember you now. You’re a nephew of Judge Davis.”
“Exactly.”
“O’ course! O’ course! But I can’t remember your name nohow.”
“It’s Davis, too–Henry Davis.”
“Oh, yes. I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Davis.”
“I saw you in the seat with that boy,” went on the man we shall call Henry Davis. “I thought I knew you from the start, but I wasn’t dead sure. Going to Philadelphia with us?”
“Yes, sir.”