place," went on Markham, "there's some people I don't want to risk meeting."
Frank reflected for a moment or two.
"Will you stay here for five minutes till I come back?" he asked.
"Why, yes, if you want me to," was the reply.
"All right. Be sure, now."
Frank was gone less than the five minutes. He returned with a little tin pail holding a pint of hot coffee, a picnic plate containing two sandwiches, a piece of pie and some doughnuts.
"There, try that," he said, placing the things on a bumper post.
"Say," choked up Markham—but Frank strode away, whistling to himself. He did not approach Markham until every vestige of the lunch had disappeared.
"That's the first square meal I've had for two days," said Markham in a grateful, contented tone. "Say, you're good."
"Am I?" smiled Frank. "I'm good for your railroad fare to where I live, and a job right on top of it for you, if you say so."
"Do you honestly mean that?" asked Markham, almost solemnly, his voice quite tremulous.
"Every word of it," declared Frank. "I live at Greenville. It's about a hundred and fifty miles
