keeping him away?" Jane's anxious tones betrayed her.
"He'll be around tonight," Pop said. "And I wouldn't go scolding him about Carter. After all, we don't know much about this Carter and it's been my experience that Speedy don't usually go so far wrong sizing people up."
Pop unlocked the big door of his car barn with his old-fashioned key. He fed his faithful old mare and waited patiently while the animal ate her breakfast, occupying a bench with Jane alongside the wall. When Nellie had quite finished her succulent repast, Pop curried and polished her gray-white skin until it shone. Then he put the harness on her and led her to the shafts of the car. With Jane standing beside him, he clucked, "Gid-dap," and the first daily trip of the Crosstown Railways was under way.
What happened then lived long in Pop's memory.
De Lacey Street had decided to hold a celebration in honor of their friend and neighbor, Pop Dillon. Between the time Pop and Jane disappeared into the barn and came out again, the street had been transformed. Banners hung from windows and store fronts. "Here's to Good Old Pop Dillon," read several. "Good Luck to Our Neighbor, Pop Dillon," proclaimed another. "Long Life, Pop!" was emblazoned on a third. Similar signs were pasted on merchants' windows. People were hurling confetti and colored streamers from upstairs windows. Small boys were tooting horns and blowing whistles. It was a gorgeous din and confusion. Even old
