THE NORTH BOUND
“It’s ahead of time,” Sandy said.
“It’s ten minutes early,” another one of them shouted.
“You’re all wrong the first time as usual,” I said. “It’s a north bound
train. Such fine Scouts! You can’t even tell which direction a whistle
comes from.”
“I kept still,” Pee-wee said.
“Sure, that was the funniest part of all,” I told him.
Dub said, “Well, I’ll have a few more minutes to stay.”
“Golden minutes with Silver Foxes,” Sandy said.
“Maybe we’ll have time to go and get some sodas,” Pee-wee said.
“Go ahead,” I told him. “I’m going to sit here and see if any Scouts for
camp get off this train.”
“Will you go with me?” the kid asked Will.
“You go with him,” Will said to Sandy.
“Come on, I’ll treat you,” the kid said. “I’ll bring back some
gumdrops.”
“Don’t come back at all if you don’t want to, the pleasure is ours,” I
said.
“We’ll hear the whistle,” Sandy said.
“Go ahead,” I told him.
Sandy’s a nice fellow, he’ll even drink sodas to help a friend. He’s
always doing good turns. Just as he and Pee-wee went away I noticed Will
wasn’t around anywhere. Then I saw him way up at the end of the
platform.
“Mine will be along in a few minutes,” Dub said. Then he said, “I’m glad
to be here all alone with you these last few minutes.” He said I was the
one he was going to miss most.
“You feel good and sorry now that the time has come, don’t you?” I said.
“You can’t fool me, I can see it.”
“Sure I’m sorry,” he said.
“Didn’t you ever go away in the country before, Dub?” I asked him. He
said only once when he went to Bronx Park.
“That isn’t country,” I said. “You see, when you get back now, the
trolley cars and everything will sound awful loud. When I first get back
everything seems funny like. But it isn’t so bad because we go right to
school--not saying that isn’t bad enough. Are there fellows around where
you live?”
“Yes, but most of them work,” he said. “If I hadn’t delivered groceries
on Saturdays I couldn’t have come up here. I tried to make it for three
weeks but I could only get money enough for two.”
“How did you hear about Temple Camp, Dub?” I asked him.
He said, “There’s a big house where I deliver groceries, and the fellow
that lives there told me about it. He was up here a couple of years ago.
Horace Baker, do you know him? His father’s president of a bank or
something.”
“I don’t remember him,” I said.
We just sat there on the baggage truck swinging our legs. He said,
“What’s Will doing, I wonder?”
I said, “Oh he’s watching to see if any Scouts he knows get off the
train. They’re coming up every day now. Not many are going back this
time of year.”
“I hold the prize on that,” Dub said.
I said, “Will you please not talk that way, Dub. Don’t you think I feel
mean enough already. Gee, I don’t know what I ought to do.”
“Yes you do,” Dub said.
By that time the north bound train had stopped and people were getting
on and off and a trainman was calling, “_Train for Albany_.” All of a
sudden, _good-night magnolia_, along the platform came Will smiling all
over his face and on one side of him was Mr. Dawson and on the other
side of him was Mrs. Dawson. And Mabel Dawson (that’s Will’s sister) was
trying to get at Will and put her arm through his all the while he was
walking between his mother and father.
“_Jiminy, Christopher, crinkums!_” I said. “Look who’s here.” And I just
jumped down and ran up to them. Dub stayed where he was. That’s just
like him--bashful.
Mrs. Dawson started calling, “Why it’s _Roy_!”
“Still out of the lunatic asylum,” Mr. Dawson said. He’s an awful nice
man, he just grabbed hold of my hand and he put his arm around my
shoulder and he said to Mabel, “Look out you don’t kiss the wrong boy by
mistake.” Then he said, “Well, tell us the worst, here we are as per
orders.”
I could see Mrs. Dawson was kind of anxious but Will didn’t give her a
chance to be anxious very long. He said, “Did it scare you, the
telegram?”
Mr. Dawson said, “It didn’t scare me but it put me financially in a
hole, paying for it collect. I was afraid we wouldn’t have the carfare
to come up here. It was as long as a spelling lesson. Your mother has
been a little anxious but I told her everything was O. K.”
“What telegram?” I asked him.
Mabel said, “Goodness, gracious--show Roy the telegram, Dad. I never saw
such a telegram in my life! Since Dad paid for it, he says I can’t have
a fur coat next winter.”
“No new car now,” Mr. Dawson said. Then he gave me a kind of a wink--gee
he’s awful nice. He said, “Here Roy, you glance this telegram over
sometime when you have a couple of hours to spare.”
Oh boy, this was the telegram. I hope nobody ever sends me one like
that, collect.
Try to come to-morrow instead of next week. Important but don’t
worry am all right. Need you to help me but tell Mom don’t
worry. Train gets here two fifty-eight. Be sure don’t fail.
Will explain. Am well. Will expect you sure.
Will.
Mr. Dawson said, “Do you see how he could be well after sending a wire
like that? I should think he’d be suffering from exhaustion.”
“And think of the cost of the ink,” I said. “Anyway it was good exercise
for his wrist.”
Mr. Dawson slapped me on the shoulder and he said, “Same old Roy.” Then
he said, “Well, Billy, what’s the matter?”
I looked up the platform to where Dub was sitting all alone swinging his
legs from the baggage truck. He didn’t look like a Scout at all.