“Come on in here, Cammie, you’re all in. This is the Salvation Army Hut!”
Cameron turned. Salvation Army! It sounded like the bells of heaven. Ah! It was something he could think back to, that little Salvation Army Hut at camp! It brought the tears into his throat in a great lump. He lurched after his friend, and dropped into the chair where he was pushed, sliding his arms out on the table before him and dropping his head quickly to hide his emotion. He couldn’t think what was the matter with him. He seemed to be all giving way.
“He’s all in!” he heard the voice of his friend, “I thought maybe you could do something for him. He’s a good old sport!”
Then a gentle hand touched his shoulder, lightly, like his mother’s hand. It thrilled him and he lifted his bleared eyes and looked into the face of a kindly gray-haired woman.
She was not a handsome woman, though none of the boys would ever let her be called homely, for they claimed her smile was so glorious that it gave her precedence in beauty to the greatest belle on earth. There was a real mother lovelight in her eyes now when she looked at Cameron, and she held a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand, real coffee with sugar and cream and a rich aroma that gave life to his sinking soul.
“Here, son, drink this!” she said, holding the cup to his lips.
He opened his lips eagerly and then remembered and drew back:
“No,” he said, drawing away, “I forgot, I haven’t any money. We’re all dead broke!” He tried to pull himself together and look like a man.
But the coffee cup came close to his lips again and the rough motherly hand stole about his shoulders to support him:
“That’s all right!” she said in a low, matter-of-fact tone. “You don’t need money here, son, you’ve got home, and I’m your mother to-night. Just drink this and then come in there behind those boxes and lie down on my bed and get a wink of sleep. You’ll be yourself again in a little while. That’s it, son! You’ve hiked a long way. Now forget it and take comfort.”