He picked up Jane’s satchel and Dan’s also, and led the way to the edge of the platform, where an old-fashioned stage was waiting. Four white horses stood with drooping heads and on the high seat another old man was huddled in a heap as though he felt the need of seizing a few moments’ rest before making the return trip to Redfords.
“They have just come up the steep Toboggan Grade,” Mr. Packard said by way of explanation. “That’s why the horses look tired.”
Then in his cheerful way he shouted: “Hello, there, Wallace. How goes it?”
The man on the seat sat up and looked down at the passengers with an expression so surly on his leathery countenance that it was not hard for the young people to know why he had been given his nickname, but he said nothing, nor was there in his eyes a light of recognition. With a grunt, which might have been intended as a greeting, he motioned them to get into the lower part of the stage, which they did.
Then he jerked at the reins and the horses came to life and started back the way they had so recently come. Gabby had followed them to the edge of the platform, and as far as the Abbotts could make out, he was still telling them the story which Mr. Packard had interrupted.
“How cold it is!” Julie shivered as she spoke and cuddled close to Dan. He smiled down at her and then said:
“Mr. Packard, this is wonderful air, so crisp and invigorating. I feel better already. Honestly, I’ll confess now, the last two days on the train I feared you would have to carry me off when we got here, but now”—the lad paused and took a long breath of the mountain air—“I feel as though I had been given a new lease on life.”
The older man laid a bronzed hand on the boy’s sleeve.
“Dan,” he said, “you have. When you leave here in three months you’ll be as well as I am, and that’s saying a good deal.”
Then the lad surprised Jane by exclaiming: “Perhaps I won’t want to leave. There’s a fascination to me about all this.”