“Well, what’s the good word, mother? Do I go?”
For a long moment Mrs. Ellison seemed lost in thought. This boy was her only son. How much safer it would be to “measure coffee, and count sugar sacks.” Her only son; but he was his father’s son as well! Brave, intrepid Rick Ellison had a share in this boy. So she spoke for them both, and smiled.
“Go, of course, David,” she said.
CHAPTER II
LORD CRAM
David found the trip to Ayre tedious; the hours dragged interminably. His first night was sleepless, and he went into the dining-car for breakfast rather late. He slipped into an empty seat at one of the small tables for two. He found himself seated across from a thin, dark young man a little older than himself. His pleasant good-morning was returned by a mumbled greeting as the stranger glanced up, then hurriedly transferred his attention to his food. He ate importantly, seeming to put a vast amount of ceremony into the homely order of bacon and eggs before him.
David ordered breakfast, and commenced to study his time-table. When he laid it down, the stranger leaned across and remarked, “I meant to get a time-table and forgot it. May I see yours?”
David handed it over with a pleasant word. The stranger, swaying to the motion of the fast train, opened the folder. David had marked stops and changes, and had drawn a black line around Ayre. The chap looked up, and caught David’s eye.
“Ayre your destination?” he asked, and at David’s nod he continued, “That’s where I am going, too. My name is Cram—Walter Cram.”
“My name is Ellison,” said David, “Glad to meet you.”
“Ellison,” said Walter Cram. “Not a very—well, I don’t know any Ellison, myself. Never heard the name but once. I’ve got a book, ‘Great Pilots of the World War.’ There is a pilot in that book named Ellison. A great chap; absolutely fearless; did the most amazing things. His career reads like a fairy story. You ought to get that book and read about him. It would interest you on account of the coincidence of the name.”