Messenger No. 48 Part 8

"Some time you shall know all about it; but not now."

"Just as you please," was the impatient reply. "Will you be able to do a turn to-night?"

"I must get off the train at the next station."

"Not much."

"That's what I've got to do. You've been mighty good to me, but I can't go any farther from New York."

"How will you get back without money?"

"Walk, if there isn't any other way."

It was useless for the manager to make any protest. He was eager to keep Jet with the company, for he had seen that he could please the public; but after quite a lengthy conversation the boy's determination was so strong that it would have been useless to oppose him further.

"Well, if I can't help myself, I suppose you must go. Here are a couple of dollars to help out on the trip, and I hope you'll win, whatever's in the wind."

"When does the train stop?"

"In less than ten minutes."

Jet made his preparations for leaving by removing the coat which one of the company had contributed for his comfort, but the manager insisted that he keep it, and when he stepped upon the platform of a small station while the train continued on, it was with a very decided sense of loneliness.

His first care was to buy a new hat.

His messenger's cap was too conspicuous, and afforded positive means of identification in case he met with any one who had read the advertis.e.m.e.nt.

Then came the question as to whether he should return by the train at the expense of his small capital, or walk at the expense of time.

"It ain't certain they stayed in that town after knockin' me down, an'

I stand as good a chance of meetin' 'em on the road as anywhere else, so I'll tramp it."

After investing twenty cents in crackers and cheese, and consulting with the station master as to whether it would be advisable for him to follow the track or the carriage road, Jet set out on his journey.

"Counting ties" was not as easy a job as he had fancied, and after an hour's steady walking he sat down to rest a short distance from the road, in the shelter of a shanty which looked as if it might originally have been intended for a tool-house when that portion of the road was being built.

He had not yet fully recovered from the effects of the murderous blow, and the steady traveling tired him to such an extent that it became necessary to lie down.

The natural result of this indulgence was that he soon fell asleep, and even the rumbling of the trains as they pa.s.sed failed to awaken him, until after some time, when he became aware of a tugging and pulling at his coat.

Opening his eyes, he saw crouching by his side about as villainous a looking tramp as one would care to meet.

"What are you up to?" Jet cried angrily, as he attempted to rise to his feet, but was prevented by the man, who threw one arm around the boy's body.

"Lay still, sonny, an' n.o.body shan't hurt you."

"Take your hand out of my pocket!" and Jet cautiously drew up his legs ready for a sudden dash.

"Now don't get into a fidget; I'm only tryin' to find out if you've got a license to travel over this 'ere road."

The fellow was now doing his utmost to get at the contents of his prisoner's pockets, and although the special one on which he was working contained nothing of value, Jet did not intend to submit to the indignity.

He had drawn his feet up as far as possible, and was ready for the struggle.

Striking the man a blow in the eye with his disengaged hand, he kicked upward an instant later, hitting the tramp fairly on the back of the head as he involuntarily sprang backwards from the effects of the pain.

This vigorous treatment sufficed to break the hold, and Jet sprang to his feet just in time to avoid a vicious blow.

"Try to get the best of me will you?" the man cried, savagely, as he picked up a heavy cane which lay near by, keeping his eye meanwhile on the boy.

Jet knew he must do his best, or suffer for what had been done.

He could see nothing which would serve as a weapon, and was thinking it might be best to make a break for freedom, when the man sprang upon him.

Luckily he succeeded in avoiding a blow from the cane, by seizing with both hands the tramp's right arm, and then came a desperate struggle.

Not for a moment did he dare to release his hold lest the fellow should be able to use his weapon, and in the meanwhile he was pummeled soundly.

The man's left hand was at liberty, and with it he showered blow after blow on the boy's body.

Jet managed to screen his face by using the tramp's arm as a s.h.i.+eld, and, finding that he was getting the worst of it darted forward at the same time he kicked with all his strength.

This sudden attack sent the man to the ground, and as he fell Jet wrested the cane from his grasp.

"It's my turn now!" he cried, as the fellow scrambled to his feet in a rage. "Make tracks out of this mighty fast or I'll break every bone in your body!"

The man glared at him fiercely for an instant, and then, stepping back a few paces, shouted loudly in a peculiar tone.

"Stop that!" and Jet ran forward with the stick uplifted. "Don't you dare to bring your friends here."

"You spoke a leetle too late, sonny, for they're coming."

Jet glanced quickly down the track, where could be seen two others of the same sort as his adversary, running at full speed.

"I reckon we won't have any trouble about huntin' for your license now," the fellow said with a grin as he retreated to a safe distance.

Jet hesitated an instant.

He knew that it would be useless to make a stand-up fight against all three, but yet at the same time flight was impossible, because of his exhaustion, caused by the struggle with the tramp.

Looking quickly around, he observed that the door of the shanty was open, hanging by one hinge.

The hut might serve as a place of refuge until some of the section hands should come that way and he leaped into the building.

Wrenching the door from its fastening, he pulled it inside, and set it up lengthwise as a sort of a barrier.

"They'll have to come within reach of this cane before getting at me, an' it'll be hard luck if I don't give a good account of myself for a little while," he said, as with compressed lips, he waited for the battle which he knew must soon begin.