Arthur’s unhappiness was increased by the fact that he could nowhere feel his precious book. It had slipped from his grasp as he slept, and now was nowhere to be found. Thus the first stage of their journey by rail was a most unhappy one, and they were glad to forget their sorrows in the sleep that again overcame them a few minutes before the train made its first stop.
The Arden station was a very small one, in a lonely place, with no houses near it. It was only a platform with a freight shed at one end, and a more forlorn place for a stranger to be left on a dark, stormy night, could hardly be imagined. Arthur and Uncle Phin were not conscious of the train stopping here, and were only awakened from their troubled sleep by the light from Brakeman Joe’s lantern flashing in their faces. They were just sitting up and gazing at him, in a bewildered way, when this energetic young man hustled them out of the car in his roughest manner. It was so rough, in fact, that poor Uncle Phin, impelled by a violent push, slipped on the wet platform, and fell heavily. He struck one of his knees such a painful blow that, for a few moments, he was unable to rise, and lay there groaning.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself to treat an old man so!” cried Arthur to Brakeman Joe, as with flashing eyes and quivering lips he sprang to his companion’s side, and endeavored to assist him to his feet.
“Well, what business has the old tramp got to be stealing a ride on my train?” replied the brakeman, sulkily, though at the same time bending over Uncle Phin and helping him up.
He was not a bad-hearted young man, this Brakeman Joe; but he was overworked, and much bothered by tramps. Generally he was good-natured, and was especially kind and gentle with old people, for he had an old father at home of whom he was the sole support, and to whom he was devoted. He had not noticed, in the dim light, that Uncle Phin was old and white-headed. He had only regarded him as a tramp, who, as everybody knows, is apt to be young and strong, and well able to perform the labor that he refuses to undertake out of sheer laziness. So now he helped the prostrate figure to its feet, said he hoped the old fellow was not much hurt, and then returned to his task of dragging the six sacks of meal, that were to be left at Arden, from the car.