At the same time he saw the shocking thinness of the little face, made into a wolf's face by hunger; the mingled horror and desperation of the eyes; the big man would not have believed a child's face could express emotions of such magnitude. He was wonder-stricken at the sight, and felt an instinctive sympathy for the fugitive. It is a strange thing how fortune will sometimes guide with certainty, when reason shows no path. The boy came unerringly toward Jim; Jim had a sort of prophetic insight that he would. Back behind him the urchin ran. "Don't cher give me away, Mister!" he pleaded. Jim flapped a hand in answer. At the time he was leaning against a corner of the station; a little back of him was a small lean-to shed where various truck was stored. Out of the car came a burly brute of a man, who stared about him rapidly. "Dat's der ol' man," whispered the boy. "If he gits holt of me, there won't be a hull bone left in me body." The man walked up to the conductor and spoke to him. "Aggh!" said the boy. "Now dey'll get me sure--der jig is up--dey'll have der hull gang ertop o' me!" the voice trailed off into a strangled sob, and then continued in a fierce whisper: "Aggh! If I had me growth, I'd show 'em! I'd show 'em!" and then a burst of hair-raising profanity. The argument was growing loud between the man, who was urging something, and the conductor, who was declining; others were walking toward the moderate excitement. Jim wheeled and caught the boy in his arms. "Up you go!" he said, and tossed him on top of the shed. "Lie low behind the wood there, and you are all right." Then came the conductor's voice: "Say, my friend, if you think I'm going to hold my train while you hunt up a lost kid, there's something in you that don't work right! Why didn't you take care of him while you had him? Now you've got just four minutes by the watch; either hustle around and hunt, or drop off the train and hunt--what's that? Now don't you give me any slack, you black-muzzled tarrier, or I'll have the fear of God thrown into you too quick. Get out of here now! Get out of my way!" The man slouched off, and made a hasty search around the station. A woman's face--scarcely an improvement on the man's--leaned out of the car window and jeered at the hunter, who cursed her back savagely. The man walked up to Jim. "Say, did yer see a kid go by here, Mister?" With a shrug of his shoulders, Jim asked him that question in Mr. Ollendorf's French method, about the pink-and-green overcoat of the shoemaker's wife's sister. The man showered low abuse on what he supposed was a foreigner, until Jim's ribs rose with the desire to kill him. "Ayr, wot are yer wastin' time wid th' Dago fur?" called the woman. "Th' kid's on the roof!" Jim's heart almost stopped, so thoroughly had he identified himself with this quarrel. He made up his mind to fight for the boy, right or wrong.