The boy’s exuberance for a moment was dampened, but not for long. He soon burst out with, “Say, Dan, you know that story Dad tells about a brown bear that came right up to the cabin door once. Do you suppose there’s bears in those mountains now?”
“I’m sure of it, Gerry. Dozens of them, but they won’t hurt us, unless we get them cornered.”
“Well, you can bet I’m not going to corner any of them,” Gerry confided. “But I’d like to have a little cub, wouldn’t you, Julie, to fetch up for a pet?”
The little girl was doubtful. “Maybe, when it grew up, it would forget it was a pet bear, and maybe you’d get it cornered, and then what would you do?”
Dan laughed. “The bear would do the doing,” he said. He glanced at Jane, who sat looking out of the small window at her side. He did not believe that she really saw the objects without. How he wished he knew what the girl, who had been his pal all through their childhood, was thinking. As he watched her, there was again in his eyes that yearning, wistful expression, but Jane did not know it as she did not turn.
The little station at Edgemere was soon reached, the trunks checked for the big city beyond the river, and, after a short ride on the train and ferry, they found themselves in the whirling, seething mass of humanity with which the Grand Central Station seemed always to be filled.
The train for the West was to leave at 10, and after it was gone, Jane planned going uptown to buy a summer dress. Dad had told her to charge it to him. His credit was still good. As they stood waiting for the gates to open, Dan took from his pocket the envelope containing the passes. For the first time he glanced them over, then exclaimed: “Why, how curious! There are four passes! I thought there were but three. Oh, well, they are only slips of paper, and do not represent money.” He replaced them and smiled at Jane. The children raced to a stand to buy a bag of popcorn and Dan seized that opportunity to take his sister’s hand, and say most seriously: “Dear girl, if I never come back, try to be to our Dad all that I have so wanted to be.”
There was a startled expression in the girl’s dark eyes. “Dan, what do you mean?” Her voice sounded frightened, terrorized. “If you never come back? Brother, why shouldn’t you come back!” She clung to his arm. “Tell me, what do you mean?” But he could not reply for a time, because of a sudden attack of coughing. Then he said: “I don’t know, little girl. I’m afraid I’m worse off than Dad knows. I——”
“All aboard!” The gates were swung open. Frantically, Jane cried: “Dan, quick, have my trunk checked on that other pass. I’m going with you.”
* * * * * * * *