The stranger nodded. “Yes, he was in quite a hurry. I’d just come in when I saw him swing around the corner and knew that something was up. I wasn’t sure he was the man they were after, but I thought I’d better take a chance.”
“I’m certainly glad you did,” replied Joe emphatically. “It was mighty nice of you.”
“Not at all.” The boy smiled and stepped into line at a window. Joe followed while Martin and Bob, bags in hand, stood ready to run for the gate. A moment later the stranger turned and found Joe behind him.
“I can get a ticket for Lakeville here, can’t I?” he asked.
“Yes. Are you a Kenly fellow?”
“Not yet. I’m just entering. Are you going there?”
“No, I’m Alton.” The other looked slightly puzzled and so Joe explained. “Alton Academy, you know. That’s twelve miles this side of Lakeville. We play you fellows at football and baseball and so on.”
“Oh, I see. Maybe I’ll see you again some time then.”
The purchaser in front hurried away and he turned from Joe to the ticket seller. A minute or so later, when the three were walking along the platform, they again overtook the stranger, and Joe said smilingly: “If you’re looking for a parlor car, there isn’t one.”
“Thanks, I thought maybe it was up ahead.”