It was lonesome work, walking along a country road at night, and Archie remembered with longing his cosy bed at home. The feeling of homesickness kept growing within him, despite his efforts to down it, and when at last the glorious autumn sun rose over the eastern horizon he was miserable with longing for mother and for home. But he was too proud to even think of turning back. He must reach the city at all hazards, homesick or not. Archie did not think of breakfast this morning. His experience of the night before seemed to have taken away his appetite entirely, and his only thought was to walk as fast as possible, so that he could reach the city soon. About nine o’clock he entered the outskirts of a busy town, and while there he observed that the railroad going to the city passed through the place. All at once a new idea occurred to him. He had so often heard men and boys tell of how they had stolen a ride from one town to another. Why shouldn’t he be able to get a ride on a freight train to the city. Would it be wrong? Archie thought not, since so many men did it. And anyhow it didn’t seem a wicked thing to cheat the railroad. He had heard people say that the company ought to be cheated whenever possible, since it cheated so many others. So, from being so tired and so anxious to reach New York, Archie decided to try and steal a ride. He entered the yards, where a train was being made up for the south, and there he saw a cattle-car with an open door. He immediately jumped inside and shut the door, squeezing himself into the farthest corner, hoping that he wouldn’t be discovered. He soon found that he wasn’t alone, for a couple of tramps were in the opposite corner, and they whispered to him not to make any noise. “The brakie,” they said, “will soon be ‘round, and if he finds ye he’ll put us all in jail.” Poor Archie grew pale at the thought of being put in jail, and huddled himself closer in the corner. After a time the train started, and the tramps, he noticed, climbed up into some sort of compartment under the roof of the car, where they wouldn’t be observed, leaving Archie alone down-stairs. Things went smoothly for a time. The train went flying along, and Archie counted every mile which brought him nearer to the city. Finally the train pulled up at a crossing, and a brakeman came along and threw open the door of the car. He was not long in discovering the cowering figure in the corner, and his wrath was dreadful to look upon. “So, ye cussed vagabond,” he growled, “ye thought ye’d steal a ride, did ye? Get out o’ this now. Quick, out with ye.” Archie could have fainted, and, as it was, he almost fell out of the car, propelled by the brakeman’s boot. For awhile he stood dazed beside the track, and finally moved on. “I’ll keep a ‘stiff upper lip,’” he said, “whatever happens.” But this was by far the most discouraging adventure yet. CHAPTER VII. ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK--A NIGHT IN A LODGING-HOUSE.