It was Fred who spoke as the long train rolled into the Grand Central Terminal, New York City, and came to a stop. The boys had collected their hand baggage and soon the Rovers and Ruth were in the midst of the crowd that was pouring through the gateway into the waiting room of the big station.
“Here you are—and glad to see you!” exclaimed Dick Rover, as he came up, followed by his wife and Fred’s mother.
There was a general handshaking and many kisses, and then Dick Rover took possession of the young folks’ checks for their trunks and led the way to a side street where two of the family touring cars waited.
The trip to the metropolis had been without special incident save for the fact that a number of the cadets, including Andy and Randy, were inclined to indulge in more or less horseplay on the way. They had had to make one change at the Junction, and on account of the heavy travel had been compelled to come down in an ordinary day coach in place of getting seats in a parlor car. They had managed, however, to get lunch on the train and had had considerable fun during the meal.
“I am certainly glad to see you young folks home again,” remarked Dora Rover, as she gazed affectionately at her son and daughter and then at the others. “And you are more than welcome, Ruth,” she added, tapping the visitor on the shoulder.
“Maybe we’re not glad to see little old New York again!” cried Fred.
“I don’t think I’d call it ‘little old New York,’” answered Ruth, with a smile. “To me it’s a wonderfully big and busy city. When I first arrive here I always feel like shrinking back until I can get my bearings.”
“Oh, New York is just all right. I wouldn’t want it any better,” answered Randy.
“But you don’t want to stay here even when you come,” put in his Aunt Grace. “You just stay at home a few days and then away you go on one of those trips.”
“Well, I’m a Rover by name, so why not be a rover by nature?” was the sly reply, and this brought on a general laugh.