With a growing rumble and spreading glare of light the swaying train at last stopped before the station. Jerry darted from his mother and with his two companions was at once lost in the crowd. Mrs. Crawford remained in the hack awaiting her old friend. There was so much confusion on the platform that, at first, the expected guests were not seen.
Jerry separated from his crowd, but, not knowing the Windhams by sight, he had not much hope of recognizing them. However, seeing a rather undersized boy before him, he raised his voice without hesitation.
"Say, your name Windham?"
"You bet!" The other's face broke into a smile. "You're Crawford? Glad to meet you. Here's my mother, Crawford."
"Come right along," laughed Jerry, after shaking hands. "My mother's right over here."
He led them out of the crowd, and a moment later the two ladies greeted each other while Jerry introduced his friends to the northerner.
Fred Windham was small for his age, but this was offset by a striking face. High forehead, twinkling gray eyes with flecks of brown in them, a mouth and jaw like a steel trap, and quick, firm handclasp won him a place at once among the other boys. Fly seemed satisfied.
Mrs. Windham met the boys; then the two ladies entered the hack. Evidently Mrs. Crawford's guest expected her son to follow her.
"Oh, he'll drive with the boys," laughed Mrs. Crawford, "unless he's afraid of the jolting."
"Sure I will!" grinned Fred. "If it's all right with you fellows?"