Won't jibe, though. He's just unnateral, that fellow is. No living at home with him, so I'm taking his to a boarding-school."
"Maybe he doesn't feel well all the time," suggested Frank gently.
"What, that big, husky boy? Why, he's strong as an ox. No, sir-ree, nateral depravity, I say. I tried to whip it out of him. It did him no good."
"I shouldn't think it would," decided Frank mentally, and then the conversation dropped and the man returned to his paper.
Frank felt sorry for the grumpy, sad-looking boy across the aisle. His own loveless experience with his aunt at Tipton gave him some reason for this. The boy was worse off than he was, though, for Frank had kind-hearted, affectionate parents, while the farmer boy was motherless. The latter had eaten half of the orange and was quite engrossed in the book given him. Frank was about to start another effort to make friends, when the train came to a station and a passenger came aboard who diverted his interest.
The newcomer was a tall, dark man of middle age. He had a very solemn face and wore a black tie and choker and clothes that suggested mourning.
There were plenty of vacant seats, but after a
