A look of pain passed over the youth's face. His eyes partly filled, and he said:
"I have been in this country more than a year, sir, and it has been a struggle for bread ever since I left Italy. The things I can do best seem to be over-run with applicants; and without friends or recommendations to help me, it is difficult to get a foothold in any city. I was told you were very much in need of brakemen, and concluded to try and obtain work here. There is no danger of any relative interfering, for I have none in this world who care."
Mr. Tuckle looked at the boy compassionately, and said:
"Badly as we need men, I dislike sending you out on a freight. You are but a boy, and know nothing of the dangers of this work. Can you get nothing else? By-the-way, how old are you?"
"I shall be twenty-one in two months, sir. And if you only knew how I have tried to get employment, I believe you would give me a chance."
"Twenty-one! You look more like seventeen. Are you sure you are telling me the truth?"
The boy's face flushed slightly, as he answered:
"If I had chosen to tell you what was not true, I should have said I was past twenty-one. I know my face looks young for that age, but I am telling you the truth; I was born in 1878."
"You were educated in Italy, then. You speak
