In a little while Bobby was flying over the rail, and at about eight o'clock reached B----.
The station master kindly permitted him to deposit his trunk in the baggage room, and to leave it there for the remainder of the week.
Taking a dozen of the books from the trunk, and placing them in his valise, he sallied out upon his mission.

It must be confessed that his heart was filled with a tumult of emotions.

The battle of life was before him.

He was on the field, sword in hand, ready to plunge into the contest.

It was victory or defeat.
"March on, brave youth! the field of strife With peril fraught before thee lies; March on! the battle plain of life Shall yield thee yet a glorious prize." It was of no use to shrink then, even if he had felt disposed to do so.