"'Mornin'."
Then a pause, while their eyes still held one another.
After a moment Danny looked away. He had a stabbing idea that the little man was reading him with that penetrating gaze. The look was kindly, sincere, yet—and perhaps because of it—the boy cringed.
The man stirred and spat.
"To be sure, things kind of quiet down when th' train quits this place," he remarked with a nasal twang.
"Yes, indeed. I—I don't suppose much happens here—except trains."
Danny smiled feebly. He took his hat off and wiped the brow on which beads of sweat glistened against the pallor. The little man still looked up, and as he watched Danny's weak, uncertain movements the light in his eyes changed. The smile left them, but the kindliness did not go; a concern came, and a tenderness.
Still, when he spoke his nasal voice was as it had been before.
"Take it you just got in?"
"Yes—just now."