noon
Then Mr. Craney strolls away to answer the signals of the engine that there are cars to be weighed , and Tim prowling professionally past the lunch counter in the waiting room , steals a banana and a sandwich , which he has for breakfast in the shade of a pile of ties . There he watches the making up of trains , the flying switches , the flatheads scuttling along packing the journal boxes ; and far beyond he can see the machine shops with the forked tongues of blacksmiths ' forges and the blink of brasses in the roundhouse . A great groan of iron and steam and toil swells in the smoky light , and the bells call to him so that he begins prowling everywhere from end to end of the yards . The noon comes with blowing of whistles ; and hungry again he goes back to the lunch counter while the waiter is busy and sandwiches are easy prey . But instead of stealing them he comes out on the platform with empty hands and stares back , not understanding why it is so , till the groan of the work hour swelling again calls up the memory of black-browed Regan who has been big boss of it all . '' ' T is sure he would never run and hide from a policeman , '' says Tim , and ponders how Regan would act in his place . `` He would go hungry if he was not strong enough to take what he wanted to their faces -- that is what Regan would do , '' he says ; and despising sandwiches and sinkers which have to be stolen in secret he struts proudly about with his rags and hunger till the six o'clock whistle blows and Mr. Craney meets him at the yard limit .