“There isn't any train back to-night—not one. I can't go back. If you are sure it will not be a trouble— But what will Aunt Hope do? She will be so worried!”
The train was wriggling into motion, and Glory caught sight of the Crosspatch Conductor on one end of the platform. She ran toward him wrathfully.
“Goodness! You here?” he cried.
“You carried me by!” Glory cried. “I don't think it was very nice in you!” Then she laughed at the honest dismay in his grim face. The train was under way and she had to raise her voice to call after him. “Never mind! I'm going with my friend. I'll—forgive—you!”
“Oh, I'm glad you said that!” the Other Girl exclaimed earnestly. “I'm glad you said ‘my friend.’ Come, it's this way, just around one corner.”
But Glory hesitated. “Is there any chance anywhere to telephone?” she asked. “I've got to send word to auntie. She would worry all night long, I know she would. I never stayed away from her but once before, and that time I telephoned. There's a wire in our house, you know.”
The Other Girl reflected. “There's one at the store,” she said, “but it's quite a walk. I don't mind it myself. I love to walk. But you—”
“But I do, too!” Glory laughed, tucking her hand through the shabby jacket sleeve in the friendliest way. “And if I didn't, do you suppose it would matter? I'd walk to a telephone that had Aunt Hope at the other end of it, if I had to go on one foot!”
“Like Tiny Tim,” the Other Girl smiled gently. “But Timmy can walk as fast as anybody. He makes that little crutch of his do almost anything but skip.”
“Skip! Oh, how I used to skip when I was little! I can remember it as plain!”