“I guess so—uh-huh.”
“Well, then I’ll see you again. And ask yer father what I told you to—you know—about goin’ West.”
“All right; I’ll ask him.”
“Well, then, gu-good-by.”
“Good-by,” she said demurely.
Joshua slowed his steps when he entered that part of Hathaway’s residential district in which the Cole home was situated. It was not yet four o’clock in the afternoon, and the spring sun was shining brightly overhead. Everything was quiet, and the stillness awed him a little, for now, more than ever, he realized the grave step that he had taken. But his spirits refused moroseness; it was such a day in spring as calls insistently to adventurers—a day for boys to dream of pirates and desert islands, and caravans forging slowly toward vague frontiers. So Joshua put behind him all thoughts of his predicament and let his mind dwell on Madge Mundy and a freight train traveling West, with a certain car that had for an auxiliary a flatcar with all the familiar appurtenances of one’s own back yard.
At the corner of his block he came to a halt. He did not wish to be seen by any of the neighbors. He stood there, irresolute, watching the front of his home, which was about all that he could see. If only he dared sneak around to the kitchen door and confide in Zida. But this comprised too great a risk.
For perhaps half an hour he loitered about the corner, hoping for sight of his deserting brother. He wanted to make sure that Lester had been unfaithful before wiping him forever out of his glowing plans for the future. But he saw nothing of Lester, and was without a scheme for finding out what he wished to know, when the pupils homeward hound from school came trooping toward him.
Across the street a cellar door stood open invitingly. Joshua hurried over, and, as no one was about, quickly hid himself in the dark passageway. He kept his head below the level of the street until he heard the familiar voices of his gang—the squeaky tones of “Did” Eustace, the boastful voice of “Spud” Mulligan, and others well known to him.
Then he raised his head and looked across the street, to see five of his particular friends loitering along, shoving one another off the sidewalk, pushing one against another, or jerking neckties until the knots became so tight that fingers could scarce undo them.