Stephen did not reply. Very quietly he walked down the aisle between his father and Mr. Ackerman, and when he gave his hand to the latter and said good-night he was still thoughtful. It was evident that the scenes he had witnessed had made a profound impression on him and that he was still immersed in the atmosphere of prairie schooners, lurking Indians, and desert hold-ups. Even when he reached the hotel he was too tense and broad awake to go to bed. "I wish you'd tell me, Dad, how the first railroad across the country was built," he said. "I don't see how any track was ever laid through such a wilderness. Didn't the Indians attack the workmen? I should think they would have." His father placed a hand kindly on his shoulder. "To-morrow we'll talk trans-continental railroads, son, if by that time you still wish to," said he. "But to-night we'll go to bed and think no more about them. I am tired and am sure you must be." "I'm not!" was the prompt retort. "I rather fancy you will discover you are after you have undressed," smiled his father. "At any rate we'll have to call off railroading for to-night, for if you are not sleepy, I am." "But you won't have time to tell me anything to-morrow," grumbled Steve, rising unwillingly from his chair. "You will be busy and forget all about it and--" "I have nothing to do until eleven o'clock," interrupted Mr. Tolman, "when I have a business meeting to attend. Up to that time I shall be free. And as for forgetting it--well, you might possibly remind me if the promise passes out of my mind." In spite of himself the boy grinned. "You can bank on my reminding you all right!" he said, yawning. "Very well. Then it is a bargain. You do the reminding and I will do the story-telling. Are you satisfied and ready to go to bed and to sleep now?" "I guess so, yes." "Good-night then." "Good-night, Dad. I--I've had a bully day." CHAPTER XI THE CROSSING OF THE COUNTRY In spite of the many excitements crowded into his first day in New York Stephen found that when his head actually touched the pillow sleep was not long in coming and he awoke the next morning refreshed by a heavy and dreamless slumber. He was even dressed and ready for breakfast before his father and a-tiptoe to attack whatever program the day might present. Fortunately Mr. Tolman was of a sufficiently sympathetic nature to remember how he had felt when a boy, and with generous appreciation for the lad's impatience he scrambled up and made himself ready for a breakfast that was earlier, perhaps, than he would have preferred. "Well, son," said he, as they took their places in the large dining room, "what is the prospect for to-day? Are you feeling fit for more adventures?" "I'm primed for whatever comes," smiled the boy. "That's the proper spirit! Indians, bandits and cowboys did not haunt your pillow then." "I didn't stay awake to see."