"Yes, and we'll all hot-foot it to the burg of New York, and shoot-up the town!" exclaimed Billy. "We'll show 'em how a boy from the ranch can be took care of!" "I guess there'll be no need of that," remarked Roy with a smile. It was several miles to the railroad station, and, on the way the cowboys rushed their ponies here and there, indulging in all sorts of antics, for they regarded it as a sort of a holiday, though they liked Roy, and were sorry to see him leave. "Now boys! Give him a grand salute!" proposed Bruce, when they came in sight of the station. The cowboys drew their revolvers, aimed them into the air, and fired them off as fast as they could pull their triggers. It sounded as though a small battle was in progress. "Give him a yell!" suggested Smoke Tardell, and the ranchers shouted like wild Indians. "Here comes the train!" called Billy Carew, as a whistle was heard, and, down the long line of glistening rails, the smoke of a locomotive was seen. The station agent went out to flag the express. "Take care of yourself," advised Bruce. "Bring me back a slice of New York," requested Smoke. "I want it well done." "Be careful you don't get 'well-done', Roy," advised Billy Carew. "Don't buy any gold bricks, or Confederate money, and take care, Roy, that them sharpers don't git ye!" He waved his big sombrero, an example followed by all the other cowboys, as Roy climbed aboard the express. His trunk and valises were tumbled into the baggage car, the engineer blew two short blasts, and the train was off again, bearing Roy to New York. His last view was of his father's cowboys, waving a farewell to him with their big hats, while some fired their revolvers, and others yelled at the top of their lungs. "I wonder when I'll see them again," thought Roy. "I sort of hate to leave the old ranch, but I'm glad I'm going to New York." He did not know all that was before him, nor what was to happen before he again saw his friends, the cowboys. CHAPTER IV ROY IS PUZZLED While Roy's father had given him some instructions as to the best method of proceeding while in New York, Mr. Bradner had said nothing to his son about what he might expect on his railroad trip. Therefore the boy was totally unprepared for the novelties of modern travel. Mr. Bradner had thought it wise to let his son find out things for himself. Roy had never been in anything but an ordinary day coach, and those were of an old-fashioned type. But his father had purchased for him tickets all the way to New York in the Pullman parlor and sleeping cars, and it was in a luxurious parlor car, then, that Roy found himself when he boarded the express.