It is hard to explain Austin’s feelings at this time. He had a tender conscience and knew he was doing wrong; but he was penniless and so in need of a friend, and this young man had showed him kindness, and a way out of his difficulty. He kept promising himself that only this once would he be guilty of such a deed. He would get work as soon as possible. And he thought of the children. It seemed impossible that he had been gone from them only two days.
But the boys were not so successful as they had hoped to be in boarding the train and were able to get into only an open coal-car. Here they had to lie down till the train was out of the station, when they sat up and looked around. It was not long till they became painfully aware that the journey would not be taken in comfort. A strong wind was blowing and, after the rainy spell, it had turned cold. None of the boys had heavy coats, and the wind cut them through and through. It seemed to Austin that he would freeze to death. They huddled together to keep themselves warm. The older fellows laughed at the trouble they were in, for they were hardened to it. But to Austin, who was used to the shelter of home, it seemed horrible. Never will he forget that cold ride.
Added to his physical discomforts was the mental consciousness of wrong-doing.
Just at nightfall the boys climbed out of their uncomfortable carriage in the freight-yards of a thriving town some fifty or sixty miles north of their starting-point. Austin was so chilled he could hardly walk, but managed to follow the other fellows up-town. It is needless to say that his initiation into the life of a “bum” was not pleasant. But his companions seemed not to mind their discomfort, and he trudged along with them. When they reached town, they first got something warm to eat, then inquired for a place to stay. The man of whom they asked understood their circumstances, for he had seen many of their kind, and directed them to the auditorium in the city park as the most likely place they would find. This building had been made for the convenience of public speaking, not for a dormitory, and was a very poor place to stay on a cold night. It had walls on only the east and north, but afforded a shelter from the force of the cold north wind. The boys had no bedding, and had to keep themselves warm by building small fires of the leaves and sticks they could pick up in the dark, and by walking. It seemed to Austin that he would never see the night through; but finally morning came. He was again treated to a warm meal by his friend, and then they parted company with the third member of their crowd. Austin and his companion decided to strike out on foot to the next town. This pleased Austin, for he hoped to get work somewhere along the way. They had not gone far until it was plain that his companion was not looking for work, but for adventure. Austin wished he had not fallen into such company. However, after the kindness the boy had shown him he could not turn from him coldly.
At noon the hoys stopped at a farmhouse for dinner. They were not posing as tramps, but offered to pay for their meal. The family with whom they stopped was a lively, jolly one, and the glimpse of home-life Austin got made his heart ache. He longed to tell the kind man all his troubles but had no opportunity, for his companion led all the conversation telling the farmer and his boys a long and brilliant tale of his travels. He posed as a rich young fellow traveling in the present manner only for the novelty. Austin had a poor opinion of his methods and modes of travel, and decided that his companion was a cheap braggart, and nothing more.
After the noon’s entertainment the boys tramped on, Austin longing for something solid to base his plans upon, his companion evidently contented with his vagabond life. Night found them in a town twenty miles north of the place from which they had started in the morning, and penniless.
But Austin’s friend knew what to do. His first inquiry was for the Salvation Army, and being directed to the home of Captain Albright, they knocked at his hospitable door. He invited them in and made them welcome, asking them few questions about themselves. But the young man was inclined to talk and told the Captain how he had been converted in an Army meeting two nights before and what a glorious experience it was. Austin looked at him in astonishment and disgust. He knew now what kind of fellow he was traveling with—one who would lie about holy things for a bed and something to eat. The shame and mortification he felt were so keen that he could hardly look up while his companion enlarged to the Captain on his religious experience.
In the morning, after the boys had had a good night’s rest and had eaten a hearty breakfast, good Captain Albright took them into his front room and read and prayed with them, then gave them some kind advice before they should go on their way.
“Boys, the kind of life you are now living does not pay. You are both young and strong and able to work, and you had better get something to do and stay with it and make men of yourselves. You are building now for all time and you can hardly afford to waste all your young manhood.”
Austin was a quiet boy, and it was hard for him to speak, especially when his companion was so quick to occupy all the opportunity for conversation. All the morning he had been trying to get a chance to explain himself and get help from the Captain in finding work. Now was his chance, and he seized it, for his companion was silent on the subject of work.
“That is just what I want, sir. I am not used to this kind of life and I do not like it at all. Do you know where I could find work?”
“Right, my boy. You are welcome to remain with us till you can find something. Have you anything in mind you wish to do?”
“I have an uncle who has always been kind to me, and he promised to send me money and help me if I ever needed help, but as yet I have found no place to stay until I can hear from him.”
“You are welcome to make your home with us until you can hear from him, and I advise you to write today,” said the Captain.
Austin was only too glad to accept this offer and to part company with his doubtful friend. He took the postal card the captain gave him and hurriedly wrote his cry of distress and got it into the morning mail. His heart was now light, and he expected a reply in three or four days at the longest. In the meantime he made himself as useful as possible in the household of the kind Captain.
After a week a letter came to the Captain’s address, but it was for Wilbur Hill instead of Austin. This puzzled Austin somewhat, but feeling certain it was meant for him, he opened it. The letter proved to be from his cousin Frank, and was in answer to his card.
“Will,” the letter ran, “start east right away, working your way as best you can, and when you are nearer, I will help you.” Austin was perplexed and not at all pleased. He did not wish to try any more penniless traveling. Three days of that had been enough for him. And that his uncle should fail in his promise seemed indeed unlike Uncle John.
Austin wrote again to his uncle, a letter this time, explaining the situation more clearly, and asking that the money be sent for his fare and promising to return it when he had work. His hopes had rallied much in writing the letter, and he was sure a more favorable answer would come soon. While he waited, he helped Captain Albright as much as he could. The Army people were making ready for their Christmas celebration, and found plenty for Austin’s willing hands to do. Much food and old clothing had been donated to the Captain for distribution among the poor, and to Austin was given the task of gathering this together. He was happy in doing this, feeling that he was at least earning his board. But he could not understand why an answer to his letter should not come. Three weeks passed since he first came into Captain Albright’s home, yet his uncle did not send him money nor acknowledge his letter.
One day a telegram came to him saying a ticket was at the office for him, and the message was signed by his uncle. Joy almost to distraction filled the boy’s heart as he rushed to the depot to see if it were truly so.
It was only a day or two till Christmas, and Austin had consented to fill quite a large place on the program for the entertainment, but he could not wait now that his message had come. Captain Albright had been sorry for Austin in his perplexity and rejoiced with him in the good news, and released him from his part on Christmas Eve.
When Austin reached the great city on his way home, he was told that his train had gone and he could not get another till the next day. The fast train, which would pass through his uncle’s town, stood then on the track; but it would not stop. Austin was getting wise in traveling and believed he could not get into anything out of which there would be no escape; so if he could once get on the fast train, he would trust luck to get him off. Dodging past the gatekeeper, he boarded this train. The conductor told him the train could not stop, but Austin waited to see what would happen. He had no money to stay in a hotel, and he wanted to get to his conductor told him the train would stop just outside for water.
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