Allan snatched up hat and basket.
“Good-bye,” he said. “I’m certainly a lucky boy!”
She stood at the door watching him as he crossed the yards.
“Yes,” she murmured to herself, turning back into the house as he passed from sight, “an’ I’m a lucky woman!”
Dan Breen, the caller, met Allan as he stepped upon the station platform.
“Here’s yer card,” he said, and held out a little envelope.
“My card?” repeated the boy, taking the envelope mechanically.
“Yes, yer card; how did ye expect t’ ride—pay yer way?”