The shrieking whistle had already announced the approach of the train, and the easy puffing of the locomotive indicated that it was now standing at the station. The colonel rose from his chair and started across the room, followed by Aleck.
"You're very kind to do that," said the boy. And he added: "Have you a grip that I can carry to the train for you?"
"No, thank you! A certain act—rash perhaps, but justifiable,—in the civil war, cost me an arm. Since then, when traveling, I have found it convenient to check my baggage."
He pushed his way through the crowd on the platform, still followed by Aleck, and mounted the rear steps of the last coach on the train. The engine bell was ringing. The conductor cried, "All aboard!" and signalled to the engineer, and the train moved slowly out.
On the rear platform, scanning the crowd at the station, stood Colonel Butler, tall, soldierly, impressive. He saw Aleck and waved his hand to him. And at that moment, capless, breathless, hopeless, around the corner of the station into sight, dashed Pen Butler.
CHAPTER II
Pen was not only exhausted by his race, he was disappointed and distressed as well.
Whether or not his grandfather had seen him as the train moved out he did not know. He simply knew that for him not to have been there on time was little less than tragical. He dropped down limply on a convenient trunk to regain his breath.
After a minute he was aware that some one was standing near by, looking at him. He glanced up and saw that it was Aleck Sands. He was nettled. He knew of no reason why Aleck should stand there staring at him.