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was before his mind； of that room as it was before the telegram
came； before the lawyer came with the letter； before the end of
everything as he knew it and the beginning ofthis。 He had not
always loved and longed for that school as he loved and longed for
it now。 There had been times when he referred to it as 〃the old
jail；〃 and professed to hate it。 But it had been the only real
home he had known since he was eight years old and now he looked
back upon it as a fallen angel might have looked back upon
Paradise。 He sighed again； choked and hastily drew his gloved hand
across his eyes。 At the age of seventeen it is very unmanly to
cry； but； at that age also； manhood and boyhood are closely
intermingled。 He choked again and then； squaring his shoulders；
reached into his coat pocket for the silver cigarette case which；
as a recent acquisition； was the pride of his soul。 He had just
succeeded in lighting a cigarette when； borne upon the wind； he
heard once more the sound of hoofs and wheels and saw in the
distance a speck of light advancing toward the station。
The sounds drew nearer； so did the light。 Then an old…fashioned
buggy； drawn by a plump little sorrel； pulled up by the platform
and a hand held a lantern aloft。
〃Hello！〃 hailed a voice。 〃Where are you？〃
The hail did not have to be repeated。 Before the vehicle reached
the station the boy had tossed away the cigarette； picked up the
suitcase； and was waiting。 Now he strode into the lantern light。
〃Here I am；〃 he answered； trying hard not to appear too eager。
〃Were you looking for me？〃
The holder of the lantern tucked the reins between the whip…socket
and the dash and climbed out of the buggy。 He was a little man；
perhaps about forty…eight or fifty； with a smooth…shaven face
wrinkled at the corners of the mouth and eyes。 His voice was the
most curious thing about him； it was high and piping； more like a
woman's than a man's。 Yet his words and manner were masculine
enough； and he moved and spoke with a nervous； jerky quickness。
He answered the question promptly。 〃Guess I be； guess I be；〃 he
said briskly。 〃Anyhow； I'm lookin' for a boy name ofname of
My soul to heavens； I've forgot it again； I do believe！ What did
you say your name was？〃
〃Speranza。 Albert Speranza。〃
〃Sartin； sartin！ Spererumyes； yes。 Knew it just as well as
I did my own。 Well； well； well！ Ye…es； yes； yes。 Get right
aboard； Alfred。 Let me take your satchel。〃
He picked up the suitcase。 The boy； his foot upon the buggy step；
still hesitated。 〃Then you'reyou're not my grandfather？〃 he
faltered。
〃Eh？ Who？ Your grandfather？ Me？ He； he； he！〃 He chuckled
shrilly。 〃No； no！ No such luck。 If I was Cap'n Lote Snow； I'd be
some older'n I be now and a dum sight richer。 Yes； yes。 No； I'm
Cap'n Lote's bookkeeper over at the lumber consarn。 He's got a
cold； and Olivethat's his wifeshe said he shouldn't come out
to…night。 He said he should； and while they was Katy…didin' back
and forth about it； RachelMrs。 Ellisshe's the hired housekeeper
thereshe telephoned me to harness up and come meet you up here to
the depot。 Ererlittle mite late； wan't I？〃
〃Why； yes； just a little。 The other man； the one who drives the
mail cartI think that was what it wassaid perhaps the horse was
sick； or something like that。〃
〃No…o； no； that wan't it this time。 Ier All tucked in and
warm enough； be you？ Ye…es； yes； yes。 No； I'm to blame； I
shouldn't wonder。 I stopped at theat the store a minute and met
one or two of the fellers； and that kind of held me up。 All right
now？ Ye…es； yes； yes。 G'long； gal。〃
The buggy moved away from the platform。 Its passenger； his chilly
feet and legs tightly wrapped in the robes； drew a breath of relief
between his chattering teeth。 He was actually going somewhere at
last； whatever happened； morning would not find him propped frozen
stiff against the scarred and mangy clapboards of the South Harniss
station。
〃Warm enough； be you？〃 inquired his driver cheerfully。
〃Yes； thank you。〃
〃That's good； that's good； that's good。 Ye…es； yes； yes。 Well
er Frederick； how do you think you're goin' to like South
Harniss？〃
The answer was rather non…committal。 The boy replied that he had
not seen very much of it as yet。 His companion seemed to find the
statement highly amusing。 He chuckled and slapped his knee。
〃Ain't seen much of it； eh？ No…o； no； no。 I guess you ain't；
guess you ain't。 He； he； he 。 。 。 Um 。 。 。 Let's see； what was I
talkin' about？〃
〃Why； nothing in particular； I think； Mr。Mr。〃
〃Didn't I tell you my name？ Sho； sho！ That's funny。 My name's
KeelerLaban B。 Keeler。 That's my name and bookkeeper is my
station。 South Harniss is my dwellin' placeand I guess likely
you'll have to see the minister about the rest of it。 He； he； he！〃
His passenger； to whom the old schoolbook quatrain was entirely
unknown； wondered what on earth the man was talking about。
However； he smiled politely and sniffed with a dawning suspicion。
It seemed to him there was an unusual scent in the air； a
spirituous scent； a
〃Have a peppermint lozenger；〃 suggested Mr。 Keeler； with sudden
enthusiasm。 〃Peppermint is good for what ails you； so they tell
me。 Ye…es； yes； yes。 Have one。 Have two； have a lot。〃
He proceeded to have a lot himself； and the buggy was straightway
reflavored； so to speak。 The boy； his suspicions by no means
dispelled； leaned back in the corner behind the curtains and
awaited developments。 He was warmer； that was a real physical and
consequently a slight mental comfort； but the feeling of
lonesomeness was still acute。 So far his acquaintanceship with the
citizens of South Harniss had not filled him with enthusiasm。 They
were what he； in his former and very recent state of existence；
would have called 〃Rubes。〃 Were the grandparents whom he had never
met this sort of people？ It seemed probable。 What sort of a place
was this to which Fate had consigned him？ The sense of utter
helplessness which had had him in its clutches since the day when
he received the news of his father's death was as dreadfully real
as ever。 He had not been consulted at all。 No one had asked him
what he wished to do； or where he wished to go。 The letter had
come from these people； the Cape Cod grandparents of whom； up to
that time； he had never even heard； and he had been shipped to them
as though he were a piece of merchandise。 And what was to become
of him now； after he reached his destination？ What would they
expect him to do？ Or be？ How would he be treated？
In his extensive readinghe had been an omnivorous readerthere
were numerous examples of youths left； like him； to the care of
distant relatives； or step…parents； or utter strangers。 Their
experiences； generally speaking； had not been cheerful ones。 Most
of them had run away。 He might run away； but somehow the idea of
running away； with no money； to face hardship and poverty and all
the rest； did not make an alluring appeal。 He had been used to
comfort and luxury ever since he could remember； and his imagination；
an unusually active one； visualized much more keenly than the
average the tribulations and struggles of a runaway。 David
Copperfield； he remembered； had run away； but he did it when a kid；
not a man like himself。 Nicholas Nicklebyno； Nicholas had not run
away exactly； but his father had died and he had been left to an
uncle。 It would be dreadful if his grandfather should turn out to
be a man like Ralph Nickleby。 Yet Nicholas had gotten on well in
spite of his wicked relative。 Yes； and how gloriously he had defied
the old rascal； too！ He wondered if he would ever be called upon to
defy his grandfather。 He saw himself doing itquietly； a perfect
gentleman always； but with the noble determination of one performing
a disagreeable duty。 His chin lifted and his shoulders squared
against the back of the buggy。
Mr。 Keeler； who had apparently forgotten his passenger altogether；
broke into song；
〃She's my darlin' hanky…panky
And she wears a number two；
Her father keeps a barber shop
Way out in Kalamazoo。〃
He sang the foregoing twice over and then added a chorus； plainly
improvised； made up of 〃Di doos〃 and 〃Di dums〃 ad lib。 And the
buggy rolled up and over the slope of a little hill and； in the
face of a screaming sea wind； descended a long； gentle slope to
where； scattered along a two…mile water frontage； the lights of
South Harniss twinkled sparsely。
〃Did doo dum； dee dum； doo dum
Di doo dum； doo dum dee。〃
So sang Mr。 Keeler。 Then he broke off his solo as the little mare
turned in between a pair of high wooden posts bordering a drive；
jogged along that drive for perhaps fifty feet； and stopped beside
the stone step of a white front door。 Through the arched window
above that door shone lamplight warm and yellow。
〃Whoa！〃 commanded Mr。 Keeler； most unnecessarily。 Then； as if
himself a bit uncertain as to his exact whereabouts； he peered out
at the door and the house of which it was a part； afterward
settling back to announce triumphantly： 〃And here we be！ Yes；
sir； here we