Sure enough, it was losing speed. People were thrusting their heads from windows while the fireman was looking back at a group of men on the blind end of the baggage car. Just as it ranged alongside us, a small figure catapulted from the platform and rolled almost to our feet. The train gathered way and sped on. I rushed forward and fell on my knees beside a grimy, tattered boy of some twelve years, who was clutching his fiery red head in both hands and cursing like a pirate. Blood was spurting from a deep jagged gash in his left wrist, which he had struck against the projecting fragment of a broken bottle in his descent. I seized his arm and applied pressure to control the hemorrhage. He fixed me with an uncomprehending glare. Then his eyes fell on his dripping arm. “Oh, Lord,” he gasped, “oh, Lord, I’m bleedin’ to death—I’m goin’ to die. Oh, Ma, Ma.” “Nonsense, kid, you won’t die. That blood looks a lot worse than it is. Just be a good boy and hold still for a few minutes and I’ll fix you all safe. Quick, Dan. Hand me that kettle of boiling water. Now, unpack my emergency case.” By the time Dan had the kit unpacked and contents laid out the water had cooled enough for use. I cleansed and sterilised the wound, tied the artery, and soon had the arm bandaged in scientific fashion. The boy had made no sound, but gazed in fascination at the shining little instruments, the vials of antiseptics and rolls of gauze. “You see, this case proved useful after all,” I remarked to Dan as I gathered up the implements. “If such things are needed at all, they usually are needed badly. This boy would have bled to death without proper attention.” At my words the lad burst into tears. “The —— sons of ——” he sobbed. “They all jumped me at once. They wouldn’t let me alone. I wasn’t doin’ no harm. It—it don’t cost the old railroad nothin’ if I do ride the blind. I want to go home. I want to go ho—ome.” Tears washed pallid channels down his sooty cheeks. “Do you think you can take a little nourishment, young man?” queried Dan as he busied himself with the meal. The boy checked his sobs. “I dunno what that is, but I kin eat any old kind of chuck. You just try me once and I’ll show you. I ain’t had nothin’ but one little old hunk of bread in two days.” “Well, take this pan of water and see if you can remove some of that make-up from your manly countenance and then pitch into the grub. I’ll die of starvation myself if I don’t eat soon.” I set another kettle of water to boil for tea, and we all fell to with avidity. “Say, I made good time last night,” the boy volunteered, as he finished his third helping of canned beans and bread. “Rode the Overland Limited. Gee whiz, but she does burn up the rails. If I only could a stuck, I’d been home to-morrow. But those boneheads chucked me off this morning. Then I landed that old hearse they thrown me off of just now. Suppose I’ll have to hoof it till night.”