“Certainly, aunt.”
Ned’s chance to ask advice was gone for, following the receipt of the second telegram, his aunt was so excited about getting ready that he had no heart to bother her with his affair. He started every time the door bell rang, fearing the police might have traced him to his aunt’s house and would arrest him at any moment.
An expressman, who had been telephoned for, took two trunks belonging to Mrs. Kenfield. They were to go to Chicago. Mary’s was also shipped to her friends in Long Island. Ned was glad he had left his at the depot, as it could be checked back to his home from there.
Mary departed about ten o’clock. The house had been darkened by the closing of the shutters so that it was necessary to light the gas. Mrs. Kenfield went about making sure that all the doors were fastened.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” she said to Ned. “To think of your holiday being spoiled!”
“Don’t worry about that, aunt,” said the boy. “It couldn’t be helped.”
In fact he was thinking less about his broken holiday than he was about his own plight in the stock transaction. He felt the certificate rustle in his pocket when he moved, and he had half a mind to throw it away. But he feared lest doing that, even with the tearing of it into small bits, might lead to his discovery. He was too worried and excited to be able to think clearly.
“I guess we are all ready,” his aunt remarked as she stood in the hall. She had a small valise to carry, and Ned had the one he had brought from home.
“Be sure and explain to your father how it happened,” Mrs. Kenfield said. “Tell him about your uncle’s unexpected trip to Europe and about Jane Alden. He knew her quite well when he was a young man. Now I guess we will start. I like to be in plenty of time for my train. I hate to hurry at the last minute.”
Together they left the house, Ned carrying both valises. They boarded the elevated which ran near Mrs. Kenfield’s house and were soon on their way to the station where Ned’s aunt was to take her train.