The train went rumbling on through the darkness; the lamps, hanging from the ceiling, swayed back and forth; the people in the car were very quiet,—­some of them, indeed, were already asleep.

By and by, the conductor came in, a slender, young-looking man, with a good-natured face.  He greeted several of the passengers pleasantly, and came down the aisle, punching tickets to the right and left, till he reached the seat where Ralph was.

“Ticket?” he asked.

“I ain’t got any,” said the boy.

“What’s the reason?”

“W’y, I lost all my money, an’ I couldn’t buy one, an’ I couldn’t see nobody’t I knew, an’ the man’t tended door, he said tell you to pass me up.”

The conductor smiled, as he recognized a familiar scheme of the kind-hearted door-keeper, but he said, trying to speak sternly:—­

“The man had no right to tell you that.  Our rules are very strict.  No one can ride without a ticket or a pass.  Where do you want to go?”

“To Scranton; I live there,” said Ralph, his voice faltering with apprehension.

“Well, I suppose I ought to stop the train and put you off.”

Ralph looked out through the car window, at the blackness outside, and his face took on a look of fear.

“I’m very sorry,” he said, “I’m awful sorry.  I wouldn’t ‘a’ got on if I’d ‘a’ known it.  Do you think you’ve got to put me off—­right away?”

The conductor looked out through the window, too.

“Well,” he said, “it’s pretty dark, and I hate to stop the train between stations.  I guess I’ll have to let you ride to Pittston, anyway.  You’ll get out there, won’t you? it’s the first stop.”

“Oh, yes!  I’ll get out there,” said Ralph, much relieved, settling back into his seat as the conductor left.

The train dashed on through the night, rumbling, rocking, waking the echoes now and then with its screaming whistle, and finally it pulled into the station at Pittston.

True to his bargain, Ralph stepped from the train.  Two or three other people left it at the same time and hurried away up the street; then the puffing engine pulled the cars out again into the darkness.

The boy stood, for a moment or two, wondering what he should do now.  The chill night air made him shiver, and he turned toward the waiting-room.  But the lights were already out there, and the station-master had locked himself into his office.  Off to the left he saw the street lamps of West Pittston, dotting the blackness here and there like dim, round stars; and between them and him the dark water of the river reflected the few lights that shone on it.  Finally, Ralph walked down the length of the platform and turned up the street at the end of it.

In a minute or two he had reached Main Street, and stood looking up and down it, trying to decide which way to go.  On the other side, and a little to the right, he saw a man standing on the corner, under a street lamp, and looking at him.