"I--haven't exactly been looking for work," responded the man, in an
embarrassed way.
"I should think you would," suggested Bart.
"See here," spoke the man, livening up suddenly. "I'll talk with you,
because you're the only friend I've found hereabouts. I'm in trouble,
and you can call it hiding if you like. I'm grateful to you for the help
you gave me the other night, for I was pretty nigh starved. But I don't
think you'd better notice me much, for I'm no good to anybody, and I
hope you won't call attention to my hanging around here."
"Why should I?" inquired Bart, getting interested. "I want to help you,
not harm you. I feel sorry for you, and I'd like to know a little more."
A tear coursed down the man's forlorn face and he shook his head
dejectedly.
"You can't sleep forever in empty freight cars, picking up scraps to
live on, you know," said Bart.
"I'll live there till I find what I came to Pleasantville to find!"
cried the man in a sudden passion. Then his emotion died down suddenly
and he fell to trembling all over, and cast hasty looks around as if
frightened at his own words.
"Don't mind me," he choked up, starting suddenly away.
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