Ben leaned over and picked up his book. "You can have a nice time looking out of the window, eh, Pip?"
"Yes," said Pip, but his thin little face fell, and he turned it away to cast a dismal glance on what he didn't care in the least to see.
Ben found his place in the book and plunged in. Was Bob really to be pursued by the shark, or would the good sailor who had befriended him before, save him now? He read on—whirled a page—what was that, a sigh? He glanced quickly around his book, and took one look at Pip. "Oh, say," he broke out, and down the book went to the floor, "what shall we do now, I wonder?"
"Do you mean it; are we going to do anything, Ben?" cried Pip, in a joyful voice, and whirling around in great excitement.
"Yes—hush, we might wake Jasper," warned Ben, but he smiled into the happy little face. "It must be something quiet, you know." He threw his arm around the small figure and drew it down beside him on the parlor chair. "There's room enough for us both, isn't there?" he said pleasantly.
"You're so awful big," said Pip, squirming in, and snuggling up to Ben as tightly as he could in quite an ecstatic frame of mind. "Oh, I wish you'd draw something, Ben, I really do."
"Well, so I will," said Ben, after a bit of consideration. "Now then, you sit still and I'll get my bag," which he soon did, from the rack overhead. And extracting the drawing materials, every movement being superintended by Pip in the greatest satisfaction, he soon had them all laid out, ready to begin operations.
"Well, sir, and now what shall we draw?" he asked, balancing his pencil thoughtfully on his fingers.
Pip turned around, his pale eyes searching the parlor car in all directions. "Draw that old woman," he said at last, pointing to the subject of his choice; "she's awful funny."
"Hush!" said Ben, pulling down his finger.