At this request, Bob rose a hundred per cent. in the estimation of the agent.

“All right.  But if I do, you must call me Hal,” he replied.

When they had carried the trunk into a little room off the station, Thomas said: 

“Can you ride horseback at all, Bob?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad.  You’ll have to learn.  Everybody rides out here.  I’ve orders to get you the best pony possible and I wanted to know just what kind to get.  Most of ’em have some mean trick.  But there’s one, Firefly they call him, that is as gentle as a lamb.  Whether Shorty Simmons will sell him or not, I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”

“Is he fast?” asked Bob, fearing that the pony might be slow and old because he was gentle.

“There’s not a horse in Fairfax that can keep up with him.  Now this will be your room.  It’s mine too, but I’ll move if you wish.”

“If you do, I’ll go to the hotel.”

“All right, I won’t.  While you are changing your clothes, I’ll ride over to town and see if I can buy Firefly.”

The group of loungers was still on the platform when the agent went to the little lean-to beside the station where he kept his horse, saddled and mounted it, and as they saw him ride forth a wicked gleam appeared in Higgins’ eyes.

He calculated that Bob would soon emerge from the seclusion of the station, and in such event he recognized his opportunity for carrying out his vow to have some fun with the boy.

Eager to begin Western life, Bob quickly took off his new suit and put on a pair of the corduroy trousers and one of the blue flannel shirts Mr. Nichols had bought him and then proudly placed on his head a sombrero.

Standing before the looking glass, he surveyed the effect, saying to himself as he noted the change the costume made in his appearance: 

“I don’t believe Mr. Dardus or anyone back in New York would know me now.”

But not long did he linger gazing at himself.

The voices of the men on the platform were audible and he decided to join the group in the hope that from some chance remark he might learn of a ranch where he could obtain a job as cowboy.  For though he was grateful to the agent, Bob wanted to be independent.

CHAPTER XVIII

ON THE TRACK

“Now you look more as though you belonged in Fairfax,” declared one of the loungers as Bob joined them.

“All except the clothes and hat,” grunted Higgins.  “Say, you won’t have any trouble getting a job if you go just as you are.  Any rancher would hire you to scare coyotes away from the home ranch.”

This sally at his expense sent a hot flush to Bob’s cheeks, but, remembering the agent’s advice to give back better than he received, he retorted: 

“If there were any such jobs around, I should think they’d pay you double wages!”