Jewel produced a paper check. “A man gave grandpa this for it at the boat place.”
“I'll see to having it sent up then.” The doctor looked along the platform. “It didn't come this trip.” He took the child's hand in his. “I shall see you again before long. Good-by.”
Jewel looked after his retreating figure with some regret. Her present companion seemed carved out of wood. His plum-colored livery fitted without a wrinkle. His smooth, solemn face appeared incapable of speech.
The swift horse trotted through the village street at a great pace, and the visitor enjoyed the novel experience so intensely that she could not forbear stealing a look up at the driver's face.
He caught it. “Ain't afraid, are you?” he asked.
She looked doubtful. “Is it error for the horse to go so fast?” she returned.
“Error?” 'Zekiel regarded the child curiously. “Well, I guess it's considered one o' the biggest virtues a horse can have.”
“Then why did you ask me if I was afraid? You're the third person who's asked me that this morning,” returned Jewel, with wondering inflections in her soft voice. “Are New York people afraid of things?”
“Well, not so's you'd notice it as a rule,” returned Zeke. “I'm glad if she ain't one o' the scared kind,” he pursued, as if to himself.
“Oh, this is splendid,” declared Jewel, relieved by her companion's smile; “I don't know as Anna Belle ever had such a good ride. See the trees, dearie! How the leaves are coming out! They aren't nearly so far out in Chicago; but oh,” as the horse turned, “there's a big storm coming! What a black cloud! We're just in time.”