"How do you do, Joe?" asked Mr. Horton kindly, coming up to him. "Taking a trip, too, are you?"
"Yes, sir," mumbled Joe. "Going to see my Aunt Annabell in New York."
"Where does she live?" said Mr. Horton with interest. "Perhaps we can drop you there on our way from the station. Do you plan to stay long?"
Joe Brown fumbled with his cap.
"I don't know just how long I'll stay," he blurted out. "Maybe all winter. I've got Auntie's address somewhere in my satchel. I know how to get there all right."
Mr. Horton went back to his seat, but Sunny Boy lingered.
"You're another with 'lations in New York," he observed. "Harold Wallace has a cousin, and the gentleman on the street car had a grandson. I wish my Aunt Bessie lived in New York. Have you been there before?"
"No, I haven't," admitted Joe Brown. "But I guess one city's pretty much like another. I went to Chicago when I was six. I'm going to see all the big places when I'm grown up."
"There's Mother motioning to me," said Sunny Boy. "Come on and see her."
But Joe Brown wouldn't.