The entire family was deeply interested in the youth. He had been hungry indeed; and when supper was finished he appeared sleepy, too.
“No knowing how far he had tramped in the snow and storm before you boys ran across him,” Mr. Speedwell observed.
“We didn’t exactly run across him,” Billy said, with a chuckle. “But we come pretty near it, Dad. Too near for comfort.”
At any rate, Mrs. Speedwell and Carrie prepared a room for the stranger. He had a suit of Dan’s pajamas to sleep in, and little ’Dolph had become so friendly with him that he insisted on the visitor’s taking to bed with him one of Adolph’s newest and most precious toys—an air-gun.
The visitor retired after saying something that must have been a grateful response to Mrs. Speedwell’s kindliness.
“By gracious!” exclaimed Mr. Speedwell, slapping his knee, “that surely sounds like English—only he mumbles it so. Sounds just as though he were tongue-tied.”
“He surely isn’t dumb,” agreed Dan.
“Not at all,” Billy added. “But I never heard anybody as tongue-tied as all that.”
The Speedwells were not late to bed—especially on such a night as this. The wind howled and the snow continued until midnight; but when the alarm clock awoke Billy and Dan in their room at two o’clock, the storm had ceased and a faint strip of moon was struggling amidst the breaking clouds.
The snow was not too deep for the auto-truck, although the brothers could not get over their long route as quickly as usual. School was in session and Dan and Billy put in full time every school day, in spite of the milk delivery.