Mr. Carter and Daniel waited at the gates, detailed for this painful duty by the panic-stricken Mrs. Carter. The train was late, and they had been waiting fifteen minutes. Daniel patiently leaned on his cane, while his father gripped the iron bars at times with the air of an exasperated tiger looking for a victim. Aware of other people also waiting and within ear-shot, they had said little to each other; but as the train finally approached, Mr. Carter broke out with a suppressed rumble.
“The young donkey!” he said for the hundredth time. “I—I wonder what I’m here for, anyway?”
Daniel, who had borne a good deal already, pulled at his sleeve.
“They’ll hear you. For Heaven’s sake, make the best of it!”
Mr. Carter gave utterance to a sound that seemed to be a cross between a grunt and a bellow, but the thunderous arrival of the engine drowned all other noises, and he fell silent while he stared gloomily down the long aisle between the tracks where the passengers were disembarking.
“There’s William,” said Daniel in his ear.
“Where?” Mr. Carter experienced a strange, sinking feeling around the diaphragm. “Oh, I see!”
The two stood silent, trying to get a good view through the crowd.
“My word, Dan, has he married a kid? She’s no size at all!”
Dan went forward, his halting walk jarring anew on his father. Mr. Carter hated to have one of his boys a cripple, but to-night he felt that Daniel was heroic. He followed in a panic.