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48 always possessed a home to which to go, unpleasant as it was, but now he had no place, and the contemplation of his loneliness caused him to grow very sober.

As the pangs of hunger were added to his general feeling of helplessness, for a moment he thought of returning to his guardian, but only for a moment. As he left the letter in his pocket and remembered the awful stigma his guardian had tried to cast upon his dead father, his pride arose.

"I will never go back there!" he told himself. "I have money in my pocket, and I can get something to eat. Then I'll go over to one of the stations in Jersey City and find some place to sleep. Perhaps there'll even be a train going out West to-night that will carry me part way to Oklahoma."

Coming forth from the pile of boxes from which he had sought in vain to catch a glimpse of his friend, the reporter, Bob walked up the street until he came to a restaurant, brilliantly lighted, and with a sign standing in the door from which the words: "Pork and Beans, 15 cents a plate," stared at him invitingly.

Dearly did Bob love pork and beans, but only occasionally had his guardian provided them, and then in such small quantities that the boy had never been able to eat all he wanted, and