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"Well, I didn't," said the other, fiercely. "What made you think I did?"
"I can't find them."
"I don't know anything about them. General, it's your deal."
He turned abruptly away from Jasper, and the boy slowly withdrew to a little distance, sorely puzzled. On the one hand, he felt convinced that this man had abstracted his ticket and money. On the other, he doubted whether it would be safe to charge him with it.
While he was hesitating, the cars began to go more slowly.
The conductor entered the car.
"Have you found your ticket?" he asked.
"No."
"Then leave the train at this next stopping-place."
Jasper had no chance to remonstrate. Obeying necessity, he stepped upon the platform, and the train swept on.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DESERTED HOUSE.
To be without money is far from pleasant under any circ.u.mstances, but to be penniless a thousand miles from home, in the midst of strangers, is far worse. Jasper found himself in this position so unexpectedly that as he stood beside the little depot with his carpet-bag in his hand he felt utterly bewildered.
He looked around him.
Not a house was in sight. Why the railroad company should have established a depot there he could not understand. Probably there must be some village not far away.
No other pa.s.senger had got out with Jasper. There was no other person in sight but the station-master, a tall, sallow-faced man, in a slouched hat, who eyed our hero curiously.
Jasper approached him.
"What place is this?" he asked.
"Don't you know?" questioned the man.
"No."
"What made you stop here, then?"
Jasper hesitated. There seemed no use in taking this man into his confidence.
"I am going to take a look at the village. I suppose there is a village?"
"Well," drawled the man, "there's some houses back."
"What's the name of the place?"
"Croyden."
"How far back is the village?"
"A matter of two miles."
"Is it easy to find the way?"
"There's the road."
The station-master pointed out a road leading through woods.
"Thank you," said Jasper.
"You don't happen to have any 'baccy with you?" asked the station-master.
"No, I am sorry to say."
"I thought maybe you might. I'm most out."
Jasper took the road indicated by his informant and pressed on.
When he had walked half a mile along the lonely road he stopped suddenly and asked himself:
"What are my plans? What use is there in going to Croyden?"
It was a hard question to answer.
Still, he must go somewhere. He could not go to St. Louis without money, and there was a bare possibility that he might find something to do in Croyden. If he could earn a few dollars he could go on, and once in a large city there would be hope of permanent employment.
How different would have been his situation if he had not lost his money, and how unfortunate it was that he should have been set down at this dismal place!
He kept on, meeting no one.
Finally he came to a place where the road divided into two forks or branches, one leading to the right, the other to the left.
"Which shall I take?" he asked himself.
There seemed no choice so far as he could see. Neither was very promising, nor was there any sign-post to inform him of what he wished to know.
"I wish somebody would come along," thought Jasper.
But n.o.body did.
Forced to decide, he decided in favor of the left-hand road, and walked on.
