"No."
"The big steamers have?"
"Yes, all of them."
"Has Bulow and Company a private station anywhere?"
"I think they must have, or they couldn't know so much about the big ships coming in."
"Good! Now, Scotty, I'm going up to the Keys in the morning, and I'll be down on the dock to-morrow night looking for work again. Stick to your job and see what you can tuck in behind those lamps betimes," I said, edging out of the side door. I felt pretty sure of Scotty. My last glance into his eyes reassured me.
With Ike Barry's catalog, as big as an unabridged, the train stopped again at Canby's the next morning to let me off.
The little girl, evidently expecting me, smiled from behind a bank of geraniums—a natural, honest, sweet smile. Her face, framed by the flowers, I will remember forever.
"You see I am here as I promised," said I, saluting, and went down from the veranda to her among the flowers. She seemed delighted and held out her dainty hand.