"You are entirely too magnanimous," he declared. "By the way, here's a ten-dollar note to start with. That's the only bill I have, save those of very large denomination. In the course of a few weeks I will make permanent arrangements with you."
"But surely you are going to stop off at Larchmont, sir, and see where I live. I don't expect that you will trust a dear little baby like this to a stranger. You will most likely want a recommendation."
"Your face is certainly recommendation enough, my good woman," he declared. "Nevertheless, I shall, of course, stop off with you."
He rose with a bow.
"Remember, sir," chimed in Samantha, "that part of the train switches off just a few miles below there. If you don't look out, you'll be taken on to New York."
"I must look out for that," he said. "I had certainly intended to take a little nap after my smoke. I haven't closed my eyes for two nights; the baby was not feeling well. Your warning will put me on my guard, at all events."
Again he bowed, and in an instant he had disappeared.
"I wonder what his name is," said Samantha. "You forgot to ask him, ma."
"So I did, to be sure. But it's easy finding that out."
Further conversation was stopped by the sudden waking up of the pretty dark-eyed babe; but a little milk from the bottle and a few soothing words soon succeeded in quieting her.