The lunch-wagon was crowded and they had to wait for several minutes before they could get waited on by Mr. Connor. He always seemed glad to see them and still took a great interest in Sam, but usually there were too many others there to allow of much conversation. Tonight he only nodded and smiled as he passed the cups to them, and they retired to the side of the wagon and drank the beverage gratefully, wishing there was more of it and trying hard to keep their gaze from the viands displayed beyond the long counter. Fortunately for Sam, he had already become acquainted with a number of the regular patrons of the Golden Star Lunch and was almost always certain of food. The men who took their meals there, workers in the nearby factories and railroad hands, were for the most part rough but kindly and many crusts of bread and scraps of meat went to Sam, who, duly grateful and willing to show his few tricks in return for the favours bestowed on him, allowed no familiarities. When anyone other than Wayne or June tried to pat him he backed away, politely but firmly. The coffee did the boys good, although it felt awfully lonesome where they put it, and they returned to the shed in a more cheerful frame of mind. It was still too early to go to bed, but the station was several blocks away and there was no nearer place to resort to, and so presently they stretched themselves out on the floor of the shed, drew the horse blanket over them, and were soon asleep. How much later it was when Wayne awoke with a blinding glare of light in his eyes there was no way of telling. For a moment he blinked dazedly, his brain still fogged with sleep. Then he sat up, and Sam, disturbed, sniffed and broke into shrill barking. June, a sounder sleeper, still snored when a gruff voice came from the direction of the light which Wayne now realised was thrown by a lantern. “What are you doing in here? Come on now! Get out!” said the voice. Wayne scrambled to his feet, commanding Sam to be still, and June groaned and snorted himself awake. The light was thrown aside and, framed in the window, Wayne could see the form of a policeman. “We aren’t doing any harm, sir,” said the boy. “Just sleeping here.” “Sleeping here, eh? Haven’t you got a home? How many are there of you?” “Two, sir. We are on our way to New York and we didn’t have any other place to sleep, so we came in here.” “Hoboes, eh? Well, you’d better beat it before the lieutenant lamps you. He’s down on you fellows this spring.” “We aren’t hoboes, sir. We’re looking for work.” “Yes, I know,” was the ironical response. “Well, come on out of it.” “But we haven’t any other place, sir. We aren’t doing any harm and----” “It doesn’t matter about that. What’s your name and where’d you come from?” Wayne told him and the officer grunted. Then: “Get the other fellow up,” he ordered, and, when June had crawled sleepily to his feet, “Hello, a nig, eh? Travelling together, are you?”