“Oh, don’t say anything more like that, Josh! I don’t believe I understand it.”
“I do, kinda,” he told her. “I heard a lecturer say that, and afterwards I read his book where he said it again. And I committed it to memory; it sounded kinda nice, I thought. And this here, too: ‘There where the glorious Milky Way dips below the horizon lies the good ship “Argo,” in which Jason and his fifty adventurers sailed from Greece to recover the Golden Fleece. And we too sail on this mystic ship, the earth, bound north-eastward to an unknown port, perhaps to discover the Golden Fleece of greater wisdom and “the peace that passeth understanding.”’ I thought that was kinda pretty.”
“Uh-huh! You’re funny, Joshua. I don’t see why they expelled you from school.”
“I wasn’t any good in grammar and ’rithmetic,” Joshua explained in all simplicity. “And then—”
But here a hand fell upon his shoulder, and in the light streaming from the dining tent he looked up into a pair of piggish little eyes set in a heavy, florid face.
“I guess that’s about it, kid,” said a voice that somehow matched the face. “And, besides that, you’re a bad actor generally. Guess it’s about time you were goin’ home. Uh-huh—black hair, heavy. Gray eyes, almost blue. Heavy black eyebrows. Face like a girl’s, but well-built and strong. Guess I’ve got you, all right.”
Madge and Joshua had sprung to their feet in amazement. The man stood eyeing them, maintaining a tight clutch on Joshua’s shoulder. Before either of the youthful star-gazers could speak, a big, fat hand darted to the inside pocket of Joshua’s coat and brought forth his father’s razor in its case.
“Uh-huh! I was told I might find this on you. Well, kid, yer dad wants you. Come on with me! And next time you run away, don’t ask any switchman where to go. Come on—it’s gettin’ late.”
“Is—is he arrested?” asked Madge in an awed little voice.
“Uh-huh—sort of. C’m’on, kid.”