Entering one of the doors, he beheld several handsomely polished desks, at which busy men were seated.

Who the proper person was to whom to present his card for a pass, Bob did not know, but after scrutinizing the faces of the various men in the office, he selected one who seemed kind and pleasant, and was making his way toward him, when he was confronted by a boy several inches smaller than he was, clad in a green uniform trimmed with gold braid, who demanded insolently: 

“Here, you!  Where do you think you are going?  Who do you want to see?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

During this interchange of words, the office-boy had been scanning Bob and his threadbare clothes contemptuously.  And at the lad’s reply, he laughed outright, adding: 

“Well, if you don’t know who you want to see, you can’t come in here.”

“But I want to get a pass for Fairfax, Oklahoma,” protested Bob.

“You get a pass!  Say, are you crazy?  Only the general managers and the other high officers travel on passes.”

“But Mr. Perkins told me to come here,” asserted Bob.

To what lengths this determination of the office-boy to get rid of Bob would have gone there is no knowing, for the official whose desk was nearest the railing in front of which Bob stood had been attracted by the unusual occurrence, and as he heard Mr. Perkins’ name spoken, he got up, and beckoning to Bob, asked: 

“What did you say about Mr. Perkins?”

“I said he told me to come here to get a pass to Fairfax, Oklahoma.  That is, he didn’t say Fairfax,” added Bob truthfully, “he just said I was to get it to any place in Oklahoma where I wanted to go, and I have decided I want to go to Fairfax.”

“What is your name?”

“Bob Chester.”

“Well, Mr. Perkins has sent us no instructions for issuing you a pass, and until he does, we cannot do anything for you.”

And turning on his heel the man walked back to his desk, while the office-boy grinned in delight.

Bob, however, was not to be disposed of so easily, and putting his hand in his pocket, he drew out the card given him by the railroad president, and said: 

“But Mr. Perkins gave me instructions to give to you.”

The man who had left his desk before paid no attention to Bob’s remark, however, and the boy was wondering if, after all, the card would be of no service to him when suddenly the door opened and in walked the porter who had drawn upon himself the anger of the railroad president, the night before, by his treatment of Bob.

As the darky entered, one of the clerks happened to be passing the rail, and he exclaimed: 

“Well, Thomas Jefferson, what do you want here?”

“Ah come to get my pay.  Ah done been discharged.”

“You discharged?” repeated the other incredulously.

“That’s what, and by the ‘old man’ hisself.”