Carl, the listening Bob judged, must be the ticket agent.
"I'd like to see that whippersnapper order me out!" blustered Bud. "There's a whole raft of women in there, waiting for the train."
Mr. Davis carefully lowered the wheelbarrow and leaned carelessly against the box.
"Guess I'll go in and see the girl—like to know how she looks," he observed a bit more loudly than was necessary.
Bob understood that he was going to explain to Betty and he thanked him silently with all his heart.
The friendly Mr. Davis strolled into the waiting room and had no difficulty in recognizing Betty Gordon. She was the only girl in the room, in the first place, and she sat facing the door, a bag on either side of her, and a world of anxiety in her dark eyes. The groceryman crossed the floor and took the vacant seat at her right. There was no one within earshot.
"Don't you be scared. Miss," he said quietly. "I'm Micah Davis, and I just want to tell you that everything's all right with that Bob boy. I've got him out here in a box, and when the train comes he's a-going to hop on board before you can say Jack Robinson."
"Oh, you dear!" Betty turned upon the astonished Mr. Davis with a radiant smile. "I was
