CHAPTER XVII
SEEKING A JOB
The stopping of the Limited at the little settlement of Fairfax wassufficient to arouse the curiosity of the dozen or so men who werelounging about the station, and when they saw that such an unusualproceeding was to allow a mere boy to alight, they stared at him withunfeigned interest.
"Must be the son of some big bug," hazarded one of the idlers.
"Or else he was put off for trying to beat his way," declared another,whose surly disposition was evident in his words.
"Can't a person get off here without starting a guessing match?"commented a third.
"Of course," replied the surly man. "But it don't seem natural."
During these remarks Bob was engrossed in gazing at the place he hadchosen in which to build his fortune, and the prospect was notreassuring.
About half a mile from the station he could see a score or more ofhouses built in all sorts of shapes, and possessing anything but anattractive appearance. Beyond the settlement and on all sides, theprairies stretched in awesome vastness.
As he surveyed the surroundings, Bob could not restrain a sigh, butquickly checked it as a pleasant-faced, powerfully built man steppedbriskly from the cabin which served as station and said cheerily:
"You're Bob Nichols, I suppose. My name is Henry Thomas. Your fatherwired me to be on the lookout for you. I had to report the train or I'dhave come out sooner. What can I do for you?"
Hearing himself addressed as Nichols was a distinct shock to the boy,but to be taken for the son of the vice-president of the railroadcompletely dumfounded him, and for a moment he was on the point ofdenying the assumption. Then his promise to adopt the name recurred tohim and he decided that Mr. Nichols' failure to disclaim relationshipwas probably with a purpose, so he just muttered something as though inanswer to the first question and said aloud:
"I should be obliged if you would direct me to the hotel. I suppose theywill send for my trunk."
"I'll direct you, of course," returned the agent, "and you can't verywell miss it because it's the only one in town. But if you don't mind,I'd like to have you put up here with me." Then he added in a low voice:"The Red Indian isn't the sort of place you're used to and I'd feelsafer to have you here."
"Oh, all right," laughed Bob. "I shan't be in town very long; that is,if I can find a ranch where they'll take me."
"So you're bound to ranch it, eh? You'll find it pretty tough,"commented Thomas.
"That's what I'm here for," answered the boy, smiling. "I guess I canstand it."
"Mebbe you can and mebbe you can't," observed the surly-looking man, whohad edged his way to where the agent and Bob were talking and had heardthe boy's last remark.
"It all depends on whose ranch you strike. Most cowpunchers don't cottonto tenderfeet. The last one that hit Fairfax stayed just three days andwas mighty glad to light out on a freight train."
"Now, Higgins, don't try to scare Mr. Nichols," exclaimed Thomas. "Hisfather's vice-president of the Great Western."
"So you are Si Nichols' son, eh?" inquired Higgins.
"I thought out-West people weren't supposed to ask questions," returnedBob.
"Good boy! That's one on you, Higgins!" chuckled the other loungersgleefully, and the station agent added: "Now leave the boy alone. He'smy guest while he's in Fairfax and any trick played on him I shallconsider a personal affront to myself."
As the agent uttered these words, he drew himself to his full height andBob could see that he was a splendid specimen of manhood. And that theothers had a wholesome respect for his prowess was evident in the moredeferential manner which they adopted toward Bob.
"Oh, if he's _your_ special friend, all right," growled Higgins, but headded under his breath, "I'll have some fun with you, Mr. Tenderfoot,see if I don't."
As he walked with the agent to where his trunk lay beside the track, Bobcould not but wonder what his reception would have been had he not madethe chance acquaintance of such powerful friends, and he thanked hisgood fortune that he had done so, for he felt out of place and verylonely in a strange country and among such rough-mannered men.
Divining what was passing through the boy's mind from the seriousness ofhis face, Thomas said:
"You mustn't take to heart what these men out here say to you, Mr.Nichols. Wresting a livelihood from the prairies has accustomed them togiving and receiving hard knocks, and they don't stop to think how whatthey say will sound. Just take it good-naturedly and give them backbetter than they send--if you can."
"I'll try," said the boy. "But please don't call me Mr. Nichols. JustBob. I like it better."
At this request, Bob rose a hundred per cent. in the estimation of theagent.
"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'veorders to get you the best pony possible and I wanted to know just whatkind to get. Most of 'em have some mean trick. But there's one, Fireflythey call him, that is as gentle as a lamb. Whether Shorty Simmons willsell 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 oldbecause he was gentle.
"There's not a horse in Fairfax that can keep up with him. Now this willbe 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 overto town and see if I can buy Firefly."
The group of loungers was still on the platform when the agent went tothe little lean-to beside the station where he kept his horse, saddledand mounted it, and as they saw him ride forth a wicked gleam appearedin Higgins' eyes.
He calculated that Bob would soon emerge from the seclusion of thestation, and in such event he recognized his opportunity for carryingout his vow to have some fun with the boy.
Eager to begin Western life, Bob quickly took off his new suit and puton a pair of the corduroy trousers and one of the blue flannel shirtsMr. Nichols had bought him and then proudly placed on his head asombrero.
Standing before the looking glass, he surveyed the effect, saying tohimself 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 menow."
But not long did he linger gazing at himself.
The voices of the men on the platform were audible and he decided tojoin the group in the hope that from some chance remark he might learnof a ranch where he could obtain a job as cowboy. For though he wasgrateful to the agent, Bob wanted to be independent.
Bob Chester's Grit; Or, From Ranch to Riches Page 17