In a moment signs of life began to appear about the little station. The man who for years had carried the mails picked up the mail pouch and approached the place where he knew by long experience the mail car would stop. The station-master put on his cap, his sole badge of office, the small boys ceased from their antics, those who were to leave Rockford gathered up their bags and bundles, and all came out from the station and stood waiting for the approaching train.
Ward too was thoroughly interested now, and took his stand a little apart from the crowd. On came the rumbling cars, gradually slackening their speed, and at last directly in front of him they came to a rest, the locomotive still puffing as though to add its part to the little station's excitement.
And there was Jack, standing upon the platform and gazing eagerly about him for his friend. In a moment he spied him, and flinging his traveling bag before him upon the ground, he leaped lightly from the platform and made a dash for Ward.
In a moment he had flung his arm about the neck of his friend and was shaking him eagerly by the hand. Ward, who was a somewhat reserved lad and never very demonstrative in his displays of affection, instead of feeling somewhat abashed by the exuberance of his friend, was greatly touched, and for a moment his eyes were filled with tears. Jack was so different from all the boys he had ever known. No matter what he might say or do, no one could take any exception to him.
"I say, Ward," said Jack eagerly, "this is the best sight my poor old eyes have looked upon all summer. You don't know how I have looked forward to this day and how glad I am to see you."
"And I am just as glad to see you," said Ward, returning the pressure of his friend's hand.
"Glad? Well, I should say! That's a fine word to use in welcoming your long-lost friend and brother after he's taken the dirtiest ride he ever took in his life, and all just to look into your eyes again. Glad? Why don't you say you're teetotally overcome, so to speak. Say you're wild with joy and you 'would that your tongue could utter the thoughts that arise in you.' Isn't that what the doctor used to say was the proper thing in our English class?"
"I believe so," replied Ward, laughing more heartily than he had all summer.
"Well, say it then! It seems to me you're trying to put it that you would that your tongue could stammer the thoughts that surge up in your massive brain. Why the very calves of Rockford are glad I've come," he added, as there came a louder blast of lamenting from the pen. "I say, Ward, what are they there for? Are they calves which you have specially fattened up for the return of the prodigal?"
"They're fatter now than they will ever be again, I'm afraid," said Ward smiling.