The red light at the end of the rear car receded into a dark tunnel.
Annabel caught her breath. “I don’t see why we let her do it!” she said helplessly.
“You couldn’t stop mother!” It was William Archer. He tucked her hand protectingly in his arm. “She’ll be all right!” he said reassuringly.
Annabel shook her head. They had turned away from the blackness of the tunnel and were walking toward the station. The others had scattered a little, and gone on ahead. Annabel’s eyes followed them.
“She isn’t fit to do it!” she said.... “She’s like a child. I feel as if I couldn’t—!” Her lip trembled, and she broke off.
William Archer smiled down at her. “Mother’s all right! She brought us up—five of us. And she’s pretty near brought father up—and I guess a few Chinamen won’t frighten her!”
Annabel looked at him absently.
“I didn’t tell her where I put the extra flannels—for the steamer. They say it’s cold—sometimes!”
“Telegraph!” replied William Archer promptly. “Want me to go home with you?”
They stood at the corner of the street. Annabel shook her head. “Of course not! Don’t be silly!... I shall telegraph to-night—a night-letter.”