"What are you guys doing here anyway?" asked the Hobo Conductor.

"We are looking for a train station to buy a ticket to Missouri," explained Patrick.  "I am trying to rescue a puppy there."

"Ain't no trains been through here in years," said Hobo.  "Just us homeless critters trying to survive."

"Is this where you're from?" asked Henry.

"Naw," said Hobo. "I come from South Carolina.  Barely escaped being put to sleep 'cause there are so many homeless dogs there.  I hitched a ride on the rails and snuck  up here. This is  Hobo Village, and I am the Head Hobo, Conductor of the rails!"

'Looks like the rail to nowhere," said Patrick, getting worried.

Hobo was proud of his ability to survive as a homeless dog.  Feeling like he was going nowhere in this world was not acceptable to him.  "Sir," he replied, "I am the conductor of the only train headed to Bone and Kibble Mountain!"
 
'

He scratched his head, cleared his throat, and sang his Hobo song:

"Some evening when the sun goes down 
and the trash can fires are burning,
Down the track you'll see me clacking, I'll say Dogs, we are not turning
I'm heading for a land that's far away beside the porcelain fountain
I'll see you all this coming fall at the Bone and Kibble Mountain!

 Oh, the buzzing of the bees in the rawhide trees
     By the toilet water fountain
     Near the porcelain springs and the tasty things
     On the Bone and Kibble Mountain!

In the Bone and Kibble  Mountain, it's a land that's fair and bright,
The handouts grow on bushes and you get treats every night.
The boxcars all are empty and the sun shines every day
I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow
Where the sleet don't fall and the winds don't blow
In the Bone and Kibble Mountain.
 

 
Oh, the buzzing of the bees in the rawhide trees
     By the toilet water fountain
     Near the porcelain springs and the tasty things
     On the Bone and Kibble Mountain!

In the Bone and Kibble Mountain there's fresh steak every day
You can eat as much as your tummy fits, 
there ain't no leashes, no fleas, no ticks!
I'm bound to stay where you sleep all day
Where your stomach is all you must obey
In the Bone and Kibble Mountain.
Henry laughed and clapped. "Toilet water fountain!  I want a ticket there!"

"Your request has been granted," said Conductor Hobo with pretend importance.

Patrick grinned.  "Guess I was wrong," he smiled, "Sounds like fun!  Now where can we have our lunch?"

"Follow me!" said Hobo, smacking his lips.

Henry and Patrick followed Hobo through a grassy clearing where a little red caboose had been carefully hidden behind some branches and vines.
"Allow me to introduce you," said Hobo.  "This is my friend and my only home, Caboodle! At least it is my home until the bulldozers come."

"Awww, what a PAWSOME Caboose!" said Patrick.

Hobo was glad his new friends liked Caboodle. "What do we have to EAT?" he asked eagerly.
Henry opened his knapsack and dumped out the fresh bones Cricket had packed. 

As hungry as they were, they knew their homeless friend was even more hungry.   Patrick and Henry each chose a small bone and left the rest for the homeless conductor.
"You're wife sure is a good cook," said Hobo, munching frantically on every bite.

"She sure is," agreed Patrick.  "I wish we had better news to tell her when we get home."