“I’d like to see you,” mocked Ruth gayly, as she pushed the old woman back into the chair with a firm and gentle hand. “It’s probably Tom, anyway.”
Ruth started toward the door, but on the instant there came the click of a latch and Tom’s cheery whistle sounded within the house.
“Right this way, Tommy-boy,” Ruth called. “Aunt Alvirah and I are holding a last minute confab. Join us!”
Tom came in, jaunty and joyful.
“I’ve made reservations all the way through to Seattle, though we have to change at Chicago,” he told Ruth, after greeting Aunt Alvirah in his usual hearty way. “And, say, Ruthie, I’ve got a surprise for you. I’ve reserved a compartment for you and Helen for the whole trip.”
For a moment Ruth’s face radiated pleasure. Then it clouded again as she asked anxiously:
“What reservations have you made for Tommy-boy?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter about him,” and Tom grinned. “He gets a lower berth in the Pullman—and lucky enough not to pull an upper,” he added, throwing his hat in one chair and himself in another. “The train is just about packed to capacity. It’s the flyer, you know, and mighty popular.”
“Then I don’t see how you managed to get a compartment,” Ruth said, puzzled. “You would think they would all have been snapped up long ago.”
“So they were—from Chicago out, at any rate,” said Tom. “But the millionaire diamond king that had yours changed his plans at the last minute and relinquished it. Thus my opportunity, which I grasped with both fists, and then some.”