“Good-by, Vinton.” They wrung each other’s hands and dashed a few unmanly tears from their eyes as the big locomotive charged clanging down upon them with brakes set and rasping. Arthur hurried after it up the platform with the letter in his hand. The vestibule doors swung open and the porters leaned inquiringly out as the train stopped.
“Express for New Haven, Bridgeport, Stamford, and New York!” called the conductor. “All aboard!”
Dan, hands in pocket, surveyed the conductor with a thoughtful frown.
“Who’s going? You, sir?” The conductor glanced impatiently from the agent to Dan. The agent hurried across the platform.
“This is your train, boy! Hurry up and get on.”
Dan shook his head slowly. Up the platform Arthur was sauntering back with a broad smile on his face.
[“I guess I won’t go, thanks,” said Dan.] “I’ve just remembered that I didn’t bring my pyjamas.”
