"And Belden?" Perhaps Mr. Jenkins could come back.
"Nine mile and a half."
"When does that train get to Middletown?"
"Goin' on two o'clock, I think."
"Oh!" said Bunny again. He looked at his watch: 12:51. No, even if Mr. Jenkins were willing, it would be out of the question for him to come back to Laurel in time to take the old couple to Middletown. There was just one way out of the difficulty.
The man's wistful eyes were staring again, looking straight through him, just as they had been when he answered Mr. Jenkins' knock. Bunny understood now what they were straining to see. It was another boy, this little man's boy, bound for a foreign country. And inside the house, striving bravely to stifle her sobs, was the mother.
Bunny made up his own mind quickly enough. He knew what he wanted to do. But there were the other fellows to consider. They wouldn't agree to his plan; no, not in a thousand years. They had a right to—
Behind him, he caught the murmur of a low question and answer. Then a voice called, "Oh, Bunny!"
"Yes?" He turned to the car. Save for Mr. Jenkins, it was quite empty. All the boys had climbed to the ground.
"Mr. Jenkins will take them to Middletown." It was Bi speaking. "He says he will be glad to do it. Tell her to hurry."