"Don't worry," he reassured her. "If we don't hear from Pop today, you can hop on a train tomorrow and find out what's the matter. It's probably nothing. It's an out-of-the-way place and maybe he never got my wire. There's no telegraph station in the town. The messages are delivered by a boy on a bicycle, the lady in the telegraph place said when I sent the wire."
Speedy was more anxious than ever now to get down to the car barn and at his day's work. Both Jane and he were too excited to eat any more breakfast. They returned to the kitchen for a moment to thank Ma Ryan, leaving that worthy matron in a fine fret of curiosity because they would not take time to give a detailed report of the reason for Mr. Carter's early morning call and what had happened.
King Tut, Harold's shaggy little dog, had been waiting for him outside on the Ryan front porch. He looked up quizzically as Jane and Speedy hurried out and, ears and eyes alert as if he knew something important was in the wind, trotted after them as they walked rapidly down the street.
On the way down De Lacey Street, several of Speedy's fighting comrades of the previous day, now engaged in opening their places of business for the morning trade, greeted him.
"What's your hurry? Don't look like rain today, does it, Speedy?" bantered robust Barnett, the butcher.
But Speedy did not smile in his usual carefree way. He just shook his head noncommittally and strode on.
