As the days went on Wayne’s tasks multiplied. He went errands to the main office down the track a block, he tacked waycards to freight cars, became an adept with lead seals and pincers, learned how to coax open a door that had “frozen,” became friends with most of the workers and truckmen--not a difficult task since the story of his timely rescue of little Terry Mason had gone the rounds and even got in the _Medfield Evening Star_, although Wayne didn’t learn of that until later and never read the account of his heroism--and got on very famously for a new hand. And he liked his work, which is always half the battle. Jim began to trust him with bigger things when he had been there a fortnight, and Wayne proved worthy of the trust. Perhaps the things weren’t so vastly important, after all, but they seemed so to Wayne; to Jim, too, for that matter, for Jim was extremely conscientious and took his work seriously. After a few days Wayne got to walking across the tracks and up the line a ways to the Golden Star Lunch. He was always sure of a welcome there, and sometimes, when the wagon wasn’t very full, he and “Mister Denny” had long and serious conversations on a variety of subjects. Denny had a fair education, was an omnivorous reader, a good listener and held views of his own. Moreover, he could put his views into words. They were sometimes unusual, but Wayne had a feeling that it was a heap better to have opinions and be able to state them, even if they were queer, than to merely agree with everyone else. There was one subject that never failed them as a conversational topic, and that was baseball. Denny was a “thirty-third degree fan” if ever there was one. Besides that he had some practical knowledge of the game, for he had played it from the time he was four feet high until he had bought the lunch-wagon and set up in business. Wayne’s command of baseball history and percentages was nothing like Denny’s, but he followed the news closely and there were some rare discussions at times in the Golden Star. Many of the freight handlers and truck drivers patronised Denny’s café and Wayne was surprised to find how much they knew of the national pastime and how intelligently they could talk of it. Quite frequently the lunch-wagon shook with the ardour of debate, for there were deep and hearty voices in the company. But a time shortly came when Wayne didn’t loiter in the Golden Star after his lunch was eaten, for he had found by then a better way to spend the remaining time.