“He’ll be goin’ home with ’im now, I reckon. I seen ’em start to’ards the depot.”
“Yes,” replied Charlie, rising and going again to the window; “but I doubt whether they will get farther than Port Lenox to-night. The trains will be late, and the roads will not be broken. Poor boy! I shall be glad to feel that he is at home with Aunt Martha, resting from his physical strain, relieved of his mental burden. Well, Gabriel, let’s go back into court. I don’t suppose they’ll want us any more, but we’ll see what they are doing with the case.”
But court had adjourned. As the two men passed out into the hall the people from the court room came crowding by. Among them was Nicholson, the Delaware Valley and Eastern engineer. When he saw Gabriel his face lighted up with a smile.
“Hello, my bumptious friend!” he shouted; “where’s your horn?”
“Left it to hum,” replied Gabriel, readily, “to scare off tramp engineers ’at might come ’round settin’ stakes in the snow-drifts.”
“Are you going to leave it home when you die, or will you take it along?”
“Oh! I’ll hev it with me on that trip. You can borrow it occasionally ef you want to. Blowin’ on it once’t in a w’ile’s a great relief to them in misery.”
A crowd was gathering, and Gabriel’s sally was greeted with a shout of approval. It nettled Nicholson, and he turned away. He did not care for fun unless he himself could be the beneficiary.
“Children and fools—” he muttered, “the old saying still holds good.”