“Come right in,” she said, with a genial smile of welcome.
“It’s Harry Ashley,” explained Tom. “He may stay all night.”
“You arrange where he shall sleep, then, Tom. Go into the dining room, boys. Father seems to be delayed in town, and we needn’t wait for him.”
Tom did not regret the kindness he was showing to his new friend. When he went to bed that night he felt that he had never passed a more satisfactory evening. He had never seen a boy enjoy a meal as Harry Ashley did that supper. It was enough to warm the heart of a stone, he decided, to witness the happy comfort of Harry, as in the cozy sitting room he showed the stranger his books, and some of the electrical toys he had made for his young brother Ted.
Harry looked around the airy attic with a smile of pleasure as he noted a mattress filled with clean straw in one corner, a white coverlid and a pillow.
“Makes you think of home, doesn’t it?” questioned Tom.
“No, it doesn’t,” sharply, almost rudely, snapped out Harry, and then, a slight moisture visible in his eyes, he added apologetically, “you’ve touched a sore spot, Barnes.”
“I won’t again,” promised Tom gently.
“That’s all right,” replied Harry in his usual offhand way. “When you know me better I’ll explain some things. I’ll dream like a prince in a palace to-night.”
Tom went to his own room. His head was pretty full with all the varied and exciting events of the day. Of course wireless details predominated. He went to sleep building in fancy the station for his friend, Ben, down at his home. He woke up to the lively sound of whistling outside of the house. Tom went to the window and looked out.