Page:Bob Chester's Grit.djvu/71

Rh This constant suggestion that he was running away, angered the boy, and he determined to put an end to it.

"No, I'm not," he retorted impatiently. "I'm going out West to become a ranchman, though I don't see why it is any of your business. The man on the boat told me I would have to hurry if I was going to catch my train."

"Got any money?" inquired the policeman, ignoring the boy's manner.

"Surely." And Bob drew forth the precious ten dollars he had managed to save from the pittance his guardian had paid him and all that remained from the money the magistrate had given him.

"All right. Come with me. I'll show you," responded the official, assured by the sight of the money that Bob was not trying to steal a ride on the train.

Quickly the two made their way to the ticket office.

"Ticket for this youngster," announced the policeman.

"Where to?" asked the agent.

"Chicago, in a chair car," answered Bob.

"'Leven thirty," returned the man in the ticket office, turning to his rack and taking down a long strip of paper, which he stamped rapidly.

With trembling fingers, Bob counted out the