The train was to leave the Grand Central Station of the New York Central Railroad at nine o'clock Monday night. The last arrangements had been made, and Mr. Anderson prepared to accompany his son to the depot. "Bwing me back suffin' nice, Roggy," called little Edward, sleepily, as he put up his cheek to be kissed. "I will, Eddie, I will," said Roger, his voice trembling a bit, in spite of his determination to be firm. He cuddled his baby brother close to him. "Now be very careful, my boy," said Mrs. Anderson, for at least the twentieth time. "Clean your teeth every day, and change your shoes as soon as you get your feet wet." Her motherly eyes showed a suspicious brilliancy, and her voice was not as steady as it usually sounded. She hugged Roger closely to her, and gave him a kiss that he long remembered, and then, with a broken good-bye, she turned and went into the house, while Roger and Mr. Anderson started for the station. They stepped out briskly, boarded a surface car, and were soon rattling toward Forty-second Street, where the depot was located. Roger was to take a train for Syracuse, a city twelve miles from Cardiff, to which village he would go by wagon or stage. There was plenty of time before nine o'clock, but Mr. Anderson believed in being a little ahead of a train, instead of behind it. He didn't give his son much advice, for he knew Mrs. Anderson had said all there was to say, and he realized that Roger was a boy who didn't need to be cautioned after what his mother had told him. The train Roger was to go in had already been made up, and the porter showed him to his place in the sleeping-car, where he had a lower berth. "Now, my boy," said Mr. Anderson, looking at his watch, "you have ten minutes before starting time. I think I'll leave you, as you are in good shape here, and I want to get back to your mother. I know you will get along nicely, and I needn't say I know you'll do what's right, at all times, for I'm sure you will. Your Uncle Bert will meet you in Syracuse, when you arrive there in the morning, and you don't have to change cars. The porter will look after you occasionally. Now, good-bye," and with a hearty handshake Mr. Anderson left Roger alone. CHAPTER II THE SALT CITY With a toot of the whistle, a squeak of the wheels and a sharp hissing, as the air brakes were released, the train started. The journey was uneventful, no delays or accidents occurring to mar it. About eleven o'clock the porter made up Roger's berth, and, though the boy wondered at the novelty of a bed on what looked much like a shelf, he soon fell asleep, and did not wake up until the sun was a half hour high, which time found him within a few miles of Syracuse. The colored porter, grinning expansively and good naturedly, for he had been well remembered by Mr. Anderson, brought Roger a steaming hot cup of coffee, which was most agreeable. "What time do we get in?" asked the boy traveller as he sipped the beverage.