"Oh, my work is nearly done now for the season. I shall not start out on the road again until fall, when I shall take goods for the spring trade. I was selling Christmas stock this trip."

"Christmas stock, and it is only June," exclaimed Roy. "My, but they hustle things in the East!"

"They have to. That's why I'll have some spare time now. I can show you various sights of interest, and, in turn, you must promise to protect me from robbers. I think I'll have to get a guardian if this keeps on," and the dude laughed at his joke.

"I'll do my best," replied Roy. "If I see those fellows again, they'll not get off so easily."

"Then we'll consider ourselves friends!" exclaimed De Royster, extending his hand, which Roy shook warmly.

The boy was quite attracted to the young man, whom he began to like more and more, as he saw that, under his queer ways, he hid a heart of real worth and kindness.

CHAPTER XI

ROY STOPS A RUNAWAY

With a companion who proved himself as interesting as did Mortimer De Royster, the time pa.s.sed very quickly for Roy. Almost before he knew it the train was pulling into Chicago, where they changed cars.

He wanted to stop off and view the stock yards, but there was not time for this. However he saw much of interest from the car windows, and De Royster pointed out various objects, explaining them as the express pa.s.sed by.

"We'll soon be in New York now," said the well-dressed youth, as the train pa.s.sed beyond the confines of the "Windy City."

"Is New York larger than Chicago?" asked Roy.

"Larger? Well, I guess, and it beats it every way."

"What's that you said, young man?" inquired an individual, seated back of Roy and his new friend.

"I said New York was larger and better in every way than Chicago, don't you know," replied De Royster, looking at the man through his single eyegla.s.s.

"You must hail from New York then?"

"I do."

"I thought so. You don't know Chicago, or you wouldn't say that.

Chicago has New York beaten any way you look at it."

"Then I reckon you're from Chicago, stranger," put in Roy, who had the easy and familiar manners which life in the west breeds.

"I am, and I don't believe I'm far wrong when I say you're from off a ranch."

"I am," admitted Roy, wondering how the stranger had guessed so soon.

"Well, there's no use getting into a dispute over our respective cities," went on the stranger. "Everyone thinks his home town is the best. Are you two traveling far?"

Thus the conversation opened, and the three were soon chatting pleasantly together.

In due time the train arrived at Jersey City, just across the Hudson River from New York.

"Here we are!" exclaimed Mr. De Royster. "A short trip across the ferry now, and we'll be in the biggest city in the Western hemisphere."

Roy followed his friend from the train, mingling with the crowd on the platform under the big shed.

"Wait a minute!" exclaimed Roy.

"What for?"

"I've got to see about my baggage. It's checked. I wonder if I can hire a pack mule, or get a stage driver to bring it up?"

"Pack mule?"

"Sure. That's how I got it from the ranch to the depot."

Mortimer De Royster laughed.

"I guess there isn't a pack mule within two thousand miles of here," he said. "Nor a stage either, unless it's the automobile ones on Fifth avenue. But I'll show you what to do. Wait a minute though. You don't know where you're going to stop, do you?"

"Not exactly."

"Then if you'll allow me, I'll pick out a good hotel for you."

"I'll leave it to you, pardner," said Roy, with a helpless feeling that, however much he might know about ranch life, he was all at sea in a big city.

"All right. Then I'll give your checks to an expressman, and he'll bring the trunks to the hotel. Right over this way."

Mortimer De Royster led Roy through the crowd, to the express office.

The matter of the baggage was soon attended to, and the agent promised to have the trunk and large valise at the hotel before night. It was now four o'clock.

"Come on!" cried De Royster again, pushing his way through the crowd, with Roy who carried a small valise, containing a few clothes, following close after him.

"Wait a minute!" again called the boy from the ranch.

"What's the matter now?"

"I want to sort of get my bearings. This is a new trail to me, and I'd like to get the lay of the land. Say, what's all the stampede about?

These folks are milling, ain't they?"

"Stampede? This isn't a stampede. They're in a rush to get the ferry boat. What do you mean by milling?"

"Why they're like cattle going around and around, and they don't seem to be getting anywhere."

"Oh, that's it, eh, my dear chap. Well, they're all anxious to get to New York, that's why they're rushing so. Come on or we'll miss the boat."

Mortimer De Royster led the way through the ferry house, and out on the boat. He took a seat in the ladies' cabin, and Roy sat down beside him. The dude had bought a paper, which he was glancing over, momentarily paying no attention to Roy.

Suddenly the boy from the ranch, who was looking about him with curious eyes, jumped up and exclaimed: