Tommy looked down at the box, and hesitated a moment in the effort at recollection.
“I don’t believe I did,” he said at last. “I forgot about it. I wasn’t hungry.”
“I’ll bet it’s the first time you ever forgot your dinner,” chuckled the conductor. “Here, now,” he added, as they entered the great waiting-room, “you sit down in this seat and wait for me. I have to go and make my report, but it won’t take me long.”
Tommy sat down obediently, and watched the crowds surging back and forth through the station and out upon the long stone platforms. It seemed to him that all the residents of Washington must be either leaving the trains or crowding into them. He wondered why so many people should have to travel, but before he could make any progress toward solving the question, the conductor was back again, bringing another official with him.
“This is the boy, Jim,” he said. “By the way, what’s your name, sonny?”
“Tommy—Tommy Remington.”
“Well, Tommy, Jim here is one of the callers. He’ll have to take the four-fifty for Trenton, Jim. Don’t let him miss it.”
“I won’t. I’ll look out for him.”
“All right. Good-by, Tommy.”
“Good-by, sir,” and Tommy placed his hand in the great paw that the good-natured official held out to him. “And thank you again, sir.”