Chapter 12

Ivan approached the station with great caution. He still might be captured by the law. So he stayed out of sight and watched as the trains came and go. When one pulled into the station, a man with a big hat and a fancy fringed leather jacket had some freight he wanted transferred from several wagons to the train’s flat car? There were lots of large boxes. Ivan watched the men stacking the boxes, covering them with tarpaulins and finally securing them with ropes to the flat car.

“The sooner I get these things to my farm,” said the man to the workmen “the sooner I can get back to doing my farming. These tools will make the job of farming a lot easier. I got some very good land, but it’s still work, work, and more work.”

“Where’s your farm located?” asked one of the workmen.

“Wat-do-ya,” said the farmer real proud like.

“What do I . . . I’m a laborer for any odd job I can find,” the man said with the tone of bewilderment in his voice.

“Watdoya, it’s the name of the town” said the Farmer.

“Where’s that?” asked one of the other men. “Cause I never heard of it before.”

“Its south of the Big City,” he replied. With all the boxes loaded and securely tied down the workmen left the flat car while the farmer went into the passenger coach. As he entered the car he told the waiting conductor. “We’re loaded, so let her rip.”

“Good, we’re right on schedule,” said the conductor. He then called in a long drawn out “All aboooaarrd.”

The train whistle blew, a few seconds later the second whistle blew, and then the train banged and clanked. Ever so slowly at first then a little faster and still faster it went down the tracks. However, there was a stowaway now on board this train. Ivan had heard the farmer bragging about his farm and the good land. As the men were putting the finishing touches on the tarp and ropes, he was climbing aboard. When it was clear, he snuck under the tarp between the boxes. He thought when the man comes to get his boxes then I’ll be where there is good land. He was out of the wind with the coat Judy bought for him; it was keeping the cold of the night off his body. In a nook of the boxes he made himself comfortable and after a while he dosed off to sleep.

Each time the train would stop at a station, it would wake Ivan from his sleep. The boy would listen for the farmer to come to retrieve his boxes. After the train would continue to travel again, he would soon be back in slumber land. Time after time this scenario was repeated all through the night and a little while after the morning sun had made its appearance the train stopped once more.

Ivan had been awake for a few minutes before the train stopped. He listened for the farmer. He didn’t have to wait long, for the gent with his very large hat stepped off the train and called for some men waiting to unload the shipment of boxes for him. They had some wagons parked so they could back up to the flat car. Ivan jumped off the other side and onto the platform of the station. He nearly bumped into a lady walking past.

“Hey there,” she said as she came to an abrupt stop.

Their eyes met for a few seconds. Ivan was not sure about the lady, so he turned and fled the area as fast as his legs would allow. He ran into an alley in the town and then hid in a large shed that was empty.

“Morning Billie,” said the telegrapher.

“I was nearly run over by a small boy who was in a hurry to get off the train,” she said “I believe he was a stowaway.”

“Well, he’s gone now,” he said “how may I be of assistance?”

“I am expecting some luggage from my sister in Ohio,” she said. “Has it arrived yet?

“I believe it has,” he replied “Let’s look in the baggage room.”

Inside they located the sought after luggage and it was soon loaded onto her buggy. Billie Watts was the lady and she drove the buggy away from the station and into the town. She and her husband, Les Watts owned the Red Dog Saloon. The trip to the Red Dog, only took a few minutes, because it was only four blocks away from the depot.

Les met his wife at the door to the saloon. He took the luggage inside and up the stairs to their room.

“I was nearly ran over down at the station,” she said.

“Not by the train,” Les said with concern for her safety.

“No! It was more like a pint sized boy in a big hurry,” Billie explained. “He was a stowaway on the train and when he jumped off he nearly ran into me.”

“Who was he?” asked the husband.

“I never saw him before,” she said “So he must be a runaway.”

“Well, you’re alright, that’s what counts. I need to put the buggy back in the barn and turn ‘Tulip’ out in the pasture.

“Yeah, you better give her some grain, the poor old thing is looking a little thin these days,” she said.

“I think we better get a new horse soon, don’t you?” he asked.

“Well, some day,” she said “but right now I need to get the lunch ready, cause the ‘Free Lunch Bunch’ will be arriving soon.

He went to the front and drove ‘Tulip’ still hitched to the buggy around to the side of the livery stable. Les and Billie had an empty shed where they kept the buggy. It was next to a small pasture where Tulip was allowed to roam and graze the day away.

When Les opened the door to the little shed he found something inside. It was Ivan, who had no way out except to run past the man standing in the door opening. When Ivan tried to run past the man, he was grabbed.

“Whoa there young fellow,” shouted Les. He released the boy and pushed him gently back into the interior of the shed. “Now, who are you?”

“Ivan Yanosh,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” Les asked.

“Find farm for family,” the boy replied.

“What?” Les was confused.

“Ivan leave New York, go west find farm, good land, write family, they come to farm me find, live farm all time,” explained the lad.

“What?” said Les, scratching his head. “Are you sure about that?”

Ivan remembered the letter Judy had written in his pocket. He slipped it out and held it up for the man to read.

“What’s this?” said Les taking the folded note. He unfolded and read the hand written letter. After reading it a third time he noticed the stationary had the emblem of a U. S. Army General. And it was signed by the general’s daughter. “Well, if that doesn’t beat all. Ivan Yanosh is it, well now, meet another believer, I’m Les Watts.” He held out his hand. Ivan took the man’s hand and they shook.

“I pleased meet you,” said Ivan now smiling and no longer afraid of the man. After the shady men he had met the last few days, he still had some reservations about Les.

Les took Ivan to the Red Dog Saloon . . . eh . . . by the back door. In the kitchen Billie was slicing some meats for the food trays for lunch. She was surprise to see the same face of the boy who nearly ran over her at the depot.

“Well, I see you found the runaway,” she said to Les.

“He’s no runaway,” said Les.

“Who does he belong to then?” she asked.

“Read this, cause, you’d never believe me in a million years,” he said as he handed the letter to her.

Billie could read very well, however she too, had to reread the letter a few times.

“No! It can’t be. There’s no way. I can’t believe it. It must be a joke. Who would do such a thing?” plus a few other comments she would say as she reread the letter over and over again.

“You see what I mean?” said Les.

“This is got to be a, joke. It’s just can’t be possible,” she said.

“Well, there’s one way to find out,” said Les.

“How’s that?”

“You go down to the railroad station and send some messages,” he said with a big smile. “Ivan and I’ll stay here and have lunch. You are hungry, aren’t you Ivan.”

“Yaw, me hungry” replied the lad.

“Send messages . . . to who?” she asked.

“Well, how about the telegrapher in New York?” he said.

“I think this is a waste of time, but here goes,” she said as she removed her apron and started out the door.

Ivan and Les made themselves some sandwiches with a few pieces from the trays and ate lunch.

§

“Billie, did you forget something?” asked the telegrapher at the station.

“No! Ralph, I need you to read this,” and she handed him the letter written by Judy.

The man’s eyes got wide. “This is not correct,” he said. “I tell you it’s a hoax.”

“It may well be a hoax, but I want to send a message to the New York Station and find out for sure,” she demanded.

“Alright,” he said. “What’s the message?”

“I don’t know, inquire about the boy, maybe a description, clothing, anything to identify him,” she said.

Ralph began to send a series of dot’s and dashes on the wire. He stopped and listened to the returning clicks. He began once more to send some clicks, then to listen to the incoming ones. Soon he banged away on the key for several minutes, only pausing now and then.

“I asked for a description,” he said “however they said there was no one there who could give us one. They need to wait for the regular key man to return from break” he explained.

“I’ll wait,” she said and went to the benches in the waiting room.

“Billie, this could take some time,” he said softly.

She held up her hand and repeated “I’ll wait.” As she sat there, she reread the letter. Some time past, before she realized the heading on the stationary. It was from a U. S. Army General.

“Will you please, send a message to this officer,” she said pointing to the heading on the page.

“That’s Fort Supply I believe,” said Ralph. He began again to send messages. Billie returned to the bench in the waiting room. A few minutes passed, Ralph returned with some bad new.

“The general and his party are not due until early tomorrow morning,” said the telegrapher. “You wait at the . . . eh . . . house and I’ll send the answers over as soon as they come in.”

“The very minute they come in you send them to me,” she said firmly.

“Yes ma’am,” said Ralph.

When Billie returned to the Red Dog, she found about thirty people had shown up for the ‘Free Lunch.’

“Where’s Ivan?” she asked Les.

“He’s waiting tables and tending bar,” said Les with a big Smile.

“What?” she yelled “are you crazy?”

“No! Now simmer down. The lad’s upstairs on the bed sound asleep.”

Later that afternoon Billie took Ivan to the barber shop. Pete Watts, Les' cousin, has bath tubs for rent there.

“Pete, I want this child scrubbed from head to foot, he smells to high heaven. Have the China-man wash his cloths and air them out. I am going to the dry goods and get him some clean ones,” she instructed Pete.

“Any thing else, Billie?” asked Pete.

“I’ll be back to get him within the hour,” she said.

“What? No shave,” Pete said teasingly.

“Pete,” scolded Billie.

“Well, how about a hair cut?” he pleaded.

“Good idea,” she said and left Ivan with the men folk there in the ‘Barber Shop & Bath House.’