The tears came to Bird’s eyes, but she blinked them back; but not before Lammy saw them. “I’ll keep Twinkle all safe for you—till—you come a-visiting,” he said in a shaky voice, reading her wish.
Then the train came around the curve and stopped at the big tank to drink.
“Come along,” called O’More.
“Oh, I’ve forgotten my paint-box and bundle!” said Bird, running back to get the precious portfolio that had been wrapped in the horse blanket.
“Your what?” said O’More, “paint-box! Just you leave that nonsense to your chum along with the dog. You’ve had enough of paints and painting for your vittles; I’m going to see you stick to bread and meat,” and, waving his hand good-by to Lammy, he flung him a silver dollar, that missing the wagon rolled in the dirt.
For a moment the sickening disappointment tempted Bird to turn and run down the track, anywhere so long as she got away; then her pride came to her aid, and, stretching out her hands to her playmate, she cried, “Keep them safe for me, oh, Lammy, please do!”
“You bet I will, don’t you fret!” he called back.
Then she followed her uncle quietly to the cars, and her last glimpse, as the train entered the cut, was of Lammy, seated in the old wagon with Twinkle at his side, the box and the portfolio clasped in his arms, and a brave smile on his face.