Tell them! No, I could not tell Uncle Dick or Uncle Jack. I was afraid that they would be angry with me, so I resolved to speak to Uncle Bob before I went—to take him fully into my confidence, and ask him to move the trap and put it safely away.
It is so easy to make plans—so hard to carry them out.
All through that evening I could not once get a chance to speak to Uncle Bob alone; and time went so fast that we were on our way to the station, and still I had not spoken. There was only the chance left—on the platform.
“Don’t look so solid about it, Cob,” said Uncle Jack. “They’ll be delighted to see you, boy, and it will be a pleasant trip. But we want you back.”
“I should think we do,” said Uncle Dick, laying his great hand on my shoulder and giving me an affectionate grip.
“Yes, we couldn’t get on without our first lieutenant, Philosopher Cob,” said Uncle Bob.
I tried to look bright and cheerful; but that trap had not got me by the leg—it seemed to be round my neck and to choke me from speaking.
What was I to do? I could not get a chance. I dare not go away and leave that trap there without speaking, and already there was the distant rumble of the coming train. In a few minutes I should be on my way to London; and at last in despair I got close to Uncle Bob to speak, but in vain—I was put off.
In came the train, drawing up to the side of the platform, and Uncle Bob ran off to find a comfortable compartment for me, looking after me as kindly as if I had been a woman.
“Oh,” I thought, “if he would but have stayed!”