Nelson turned and for the first time had sight of the boy’s face. The hand which he had stretched forth fell to his side.
[“Why! Hello, Jerry Hinkley!”] he cried.
[“‘Why! Hello, Jerry Hinkley!’”]
“Hello,” responded Jerry with an embarrassed smile. He was quite a different-looking Jerry already. His hair had been cut, the faded overalls and blue gingham shirt had given place to a suit of plain, neat clothes, half-hidden by a long apron, and there was a new expression of self-reliance in the gray eyes. He shook hands with Nelson a bit awkwardly, but looked very glad to see him again.
“What are you doing here, Jerry?” asked Nelson.
“I’m cook’s boy,” was the answer. “I joined the show last Wednesday, the day after I seen you. Have some sugar?”
Nelson helped himself, accepted the proffered tin spoon, and stirred his coffee.
“Do you like it?” he asked. “It must be rather a change from the farm.”
“Yes, I like it first-rate,” said Jerry.