But that was the train to the city!
"Oh, Uncle Sam!" called Tavia. "Isn't that the train I should go on?"
"Without giving me your address?" and he was running down the platform with the mail bag. "Couldn't you wait till the next?"
There seemed nothing else to do! But to stay longer away from camp?
Well, she might as well be content now. It was too late to get a ticket, too late to say good-bye to Sam, too late to do anything but attend to the people who came in the station after the train pulled out.
"Have you seen the carriage from the sanitarium?"
The speaker, who had just alighted from the train, addressed Tavia, but the latter was so surprised that she caught her finger in the ticket stamper. Before the little window stood a young woman in the garb of a nurse—and she wanted the carriage from the sanitarium.
"If you will wait a minute or two the agent will be back," said Tavia in her very nicest voice. "He is just putting the mail on the train."
"Dear me!" and the nurse turned away. Then she returned. "Are you his daughter?"
"No, his—his niece," quibbled Tavia. What else could she do just then? And didn't Sam say he would adopt her?