was ill and who needed her.
The conductor took the message and said that he expected to have an opportunity to send a telegram in a very short time. The train soon stopped at a village, where it was evidently flagged, and the young people saw the station master running from the depot waving a yellow envelope. The conductor received it, at the same time giving him the paper on which Jane’s message was written. “Please send this at once.” The sound of his voice came to them through Gerald’s window. Then the train started again and had acquired its former speed when the kindly conductor entered their car. He was reading the telegram he had just received. Stopping at their seats, he asked: “Are you Daniel Abbott, accompanied by Jane, Julie and Gerald?”
“We are,” the tall lad replied in his friendly manner. “Have you a message from our father?”
The conductor shook his head. “No, not that. This telegram is from the president of the railroad telling us that four young people named Abbott are his guests, and he wishes them to receive every courtesy, and now, as it is noon, if you will come with me, I will escort you to the diner.”
“Oh, but I’m glad,” Julie, who treated everyone with frank friendliness, smiled brightly up into the face of the man whom she just knew must be a father, he had such kind, understanding eyes. “I’m awful hungry; aren’t you, Gerry?” she whispered, a moment later, as they filed down the aisle in procession, the conductor first, Jane next, with Dan at the end as rear guard. Julie tittered and Jane turned to frown at her. Gerry poked his young sister with the reminder, “Pretend she smiled.”
But frowns could not squelch Julie’s exuberance when they were seated about a table in the dining car, which was rapidly filling with their fellow travelers.
“Ohee, isn’t this the jolliest? I’m going to pretend I’m a princess and – ” But the small girl paused and listened. The head waiter was addressing Jane. “As guests of Mr. Bethel’s,” he told them, “you may select whatever you wish from the menu. Kindly write out your orders.” He handed them each an order slip and a pencil and then went on to another table. Julie gave a little bounce of joy. The “real” was so wonderful, she would not have to pretend. She and Gerald bowed their heads over a typed menu; and then they began to scribble. Dan, glancing across at them, smiled good naturedly. “What are you doing, kiddies, copying the entire menu?” he asked. But Jane remarked rebukingly, “Julie Abbott, do you wish people to think that you have been starved at home? Tear those up at once. Here are two others. If you can’t make them out properly, I’ll do it for you.”
Dan saw a rebellious expression in Julie’s eyes, so he suggested, “Let them try once more, Jane. They can’t learn any younger. Just order a few things at first, Gerry, and then, if you are still hungry, you can have more.”
Such a jolly time as the children had! When the train turned sharply at a curve and the dishes slid about, Julie laughed outright. She purposely did not look at Jane. She could pretend her big sister was smiling easier, if she didn’t see the frown. But their fun was just beginning.
CHAPTER IX
TELEGRAMS
Although the children were greatly interested in all they saw, nothing of an unusual nature had occurred, when, early one morning they reached Chicago.
The kindly conductor directed them to the other train that would bear them to their destination, assuring them that on it, also, they would be guests of Mr. Bethel.
The four young people were standing on the outer edge of the hurrying throng, gazing about them with interest (as several hours would elapse before the departure of the west-bound train), when Jane was sure that she heard their name being called through a megaphone.
“It’s that man in uniform over by the gates. He’s calling ‘Telegram for Jane Abbott!’” Gerald told her. “May I go get it, Dan? May I?”
The older boy nodded and the younger pushed through the crowd, the others following more slowly. Very quickly Gerald returned, waving two yellow envelopes. One was a night letter from Marion Starr. Tearing it open, Jane read:
“Dearest friend: As soon as I received your message I telephoned your father, knowing that he could explain much more than you could in ten words. What you are doing makes me love you more than I did before, if that is possible. My one wish is that I, too, might go West. I like mountains far better than I do fashionable summer resorts. Will write. Your
The other telegram contained a short message, but Jane looked up with tears in her eyes as she said: “It is from father and just for me.”
Dan smiled down at her and asked no questions. The few words were: “Thank you, daughter, for your self-sacrifice. Now I know that Dan will get well.”
But their father did not know how serious Dan believed his condition to be.
“And he shall not,” the girl decided, “not until I have good news to send.”
As soon as they were seated in the train that was to take them the rest of the journey, Jane said anxiously: “Dan, dear, aren’t you trying too hard to keep up? You look so very weak and weary. Let’s have the porter make up the lower berth, even though it is still daytime. You need a long rest.”
Dan shook his head, though he pressed her arm tenderly, but a coughing spell racked his body when he tried to speak. The conductor on the Rock Island was more practical than their former friend, but not more kindly. He motioned Jane to one side.
“Miss Abbott,” he said, “there is a drawing-room vacant. Bride and groom were to have had it, but the order has been canceled. Since you are friends of Mr. Bethel, I’m going to put you all in there. It will be more comfortable, and you can turn in any time you wish.”
Jane’s gratitude was sincerely expressed. It would give Dan just the opportunity he needed to rest, and the lad, nothing loath, permitted Jane to have her way. How elated the children were when they found that they were to travel in a room quite by themselves. That evening they went to the diner alone, but Gerald was not as pleased as was his sister.
“I should think you’d be tickled pink,” Julie said, inelegantly, “to be able to order anything you choose and not have Jane peering at what you write.”
The boy replied dismally: “I can’t be much pleased about anything. Don’t you know, Jane’s staying with Dan ’cause she thinks he’s too weak to come out here? I heard her ask the porter to have their dinners brought in there. Julie, you and I’ll have to keep quieter if we want to help Dan get well. He’s sicker than he was when we started. I can see that easy.”
The small girl was at once remorseful.
“I’m so glad you told me,” she said with tears in her dark violet eyes. “I’ve just been thinking what a lot of fun we’re having. I’ve been worse selfish than Jane was.”
Seeing that her lips were quivering, Gerald said consolingly: “No, you haven’t, either. Anyhow, I think Dan’s just tired out. He’ll be lots better in the morning. You see if he isn’t.”
But when Dan awakened in the morning he was no better.
During the afternoon, that their brother might try to sleep, the conductor suggested that Julie and Gerald go out on the observation platform.
“Is it quite safe for them out there alone?” Dan inquired.
“They will not be alone,” was the
