“Who? Little Geraldine?” asked Alf with a laugh. “Oh, he will get on in time. Say, though, doesn’t Dan remind you of old Mrs. Mother Hen with her one chick?”
And Alf went off chuckling to find his books.
[CHAPTER VI]
A VISIT TO NEW YORK
On the following Friday Dan and Gerald, suit-cases in hand and ulsters on arm, climbed aboard the express at a little before five o’clock and set out for New York. It was a cloudy afternoon, still and moderately cold. The river had been frozen for several days, and as the train crossed the bridge the boys could see the skaters moving about through the twilight up near Loon Island. They had their supper on the train—although it was really dinner—and did their level best to eat some of everything on the menu. In this effort they were not quite successful, but they managed to consume enough to interfere seriously with their comfort. Luckily they had a full hour—and it really was a full one—in which to recover before the train rolled into the Grand Central Station, by which time they were able to take up their luggage and traverse the platform without more than an occasional groan.
Mr. Pennimore had half promised to meet them, but when Gerald had discovered the electric brougham, the driver, a very smart looking youth in trim livery, reported that Mr. Pennimore had telephoned from downtown that he wouldn’t be able to reach the station in time, but would meet the boys at dinner.
“Dinner!” groaned Dan, casting a reproachful look at Gerald. “Why didn’t you tell me we were to have dinner after we got here?”
“I thought it would be lots more fun to eat on the train,” replied Gerald. “You can eat at home any time. Besides, we were hungry, Dan.”
“Well, that’s so. But I’m not hungry now, and I know I shan’t be able to even look at the table.”