Part 13 (2/2)
”Seven miles.”
”And there's no other way?”
”You won't be the first that have counted the ties between Junction and Winthrop.”
”Isn't there a freight train that comes along pretty soon?” inquired Will.
”There's one that's due in 'bout an hour. But you never can depend on it. It may be here in an hour and it may be three hours. You never can tell.”
”What shall we do, Phelps?” inquired Mott, turning sharply to his companion.
”I don't care much, but I believe it would be better for us to start. It isn't so very far and besides it'll be good for our longevity and help us for the meet.”
There was an exclamation of anger from Mott who doubtless had become somewhat sensitive to the frequent references to his favorite expression of the day, but he made no protest and the two boys at once started up the track. Both were hungry and weary but the distance must be traversed, and there was no time or breath to waste in complaining.
Steadily they trudged onward, the monotony of the walk increased by the deepening darkness. They had been gone from the station only about an hour when the shrill screech of the whistle from a locomotive approaching from behind them was heard, and in a few minutes the long and noisy freight train thundered past them.
Mott was almost beside himself with rage as he watched the pa.s.sing cars and heaped all manner of maledictions upon the head of the station agent, who, he declared, must have known the train was coming, and with malice aforethought had withheld his knowledge and advised the boys to walk. ”Everybody was against the college boys,” he declared, ”and looked upon it as legitimate to take advantage of them in every possible manner.” But Will only laughed in response and made no protests though he was as thoroughly wearied as his companion.
At last the lights of the college could be seen and shortly after ten o'clock they arrived at their dormitory. ”We'll remember this walk, I take it,” said Mott glumly as he turned toward his room.
”We certainly shall,” replied Will. ”The 'longevity' of that old farmer was something wonderful.”
”Bother his longevity!” exclaimed Mott as he turned quickly away.
Left to himself Will slowly climbed the stairs until he arrived at his own room, but as he was about to enter he suddenly stopped and listened intently to the sound of voices within. Surely he knew that voice, he thought, and in an instant opened the door and burst into the room.
Seated in the easy-chair was his father. Instantly Will's weariness was forgotten and with a shout he rushed upon his visitor throwing his arm about his neck and laughing in a way that may have served to keep down a stronger emotion.
”How long have you been here?” he demanded. ”Where's mother? When did you come? How's everybody at home? Anything wrong? My, but I'm glad to see you! How long are you going to stay?”
The questions and exclamations fell from Will's lips in such confusion that it was impossible to reply and even Foster who was in the room joined in the laugh with which his room-mate's excitement was greeted.
”Not too fast, Will,” laughed his father. ”I had to come near here on business and I thought it would be a good thing to stop at Winthrop over night and have a little visit with my boy. I didn't know that I should be able to have one,” he added smilingly, ”for he wasn't anywhere to be found.”
”I'm sorry! I wish I'd known it. I've been out for a walk with Mott. And we certainly have had one!” he added as he recounted some of the experiences of the afternoon.
His recital was greeted with laughter and even Will himself could enjoy it now that it was all past and he was once more safe in his room. For an hour Mr. Phelps remained in the room listening to the tales of the boys of their new life in the college, laughing as he heard of their pranks, and deeply interested in all they had to relate. At last when he arose to go to his room in the village hotel, he promised to come and attend church in the morning with the boys and then explained that he would have two hours to spend with Will on the morning following as his train did not leave until half-past ten.
”But I have a recitation the first hour,” said Will blankly. ”I'll 'cut'
it, though, for it isn't every day one has his daddy with him, and I wouldn't lose a minute of your time here, pop, for ten hours with old Splinter. I have Greek, you know, the first hour in the morning. Oh, I've got 'cuts' to burn,” he added hastily as an unspoken protest appeared in the expression on his father's face. ”You needn't worry about that.”
”I don't want you to lose any recitation because I am here,” said his father quietly. ”I sha'n't want to come again if my coming interferes with your work, and as it is I have serious doubts--”
”All right, pop,” replied Will patting his father affectionately on the shoulder. ”I'll go to Splinter's cla.s.s, though I know he'll 'go for' me too. I won't do a thing that'll ever keep you from showing up here in Winthrop again.”
On Monday morning after the exercises in the chapel, Mr. Phelps went to Will's room and waited till the hour should pa.s.s and the eager-hearted boy should return. As the great clock in the tower rang out the hour he arose and stood in front of the window peering out across the campus at the building where Will was at work, but the stroke had scarcely ceased before he beheld the lad run swiftly down the steps and speed along the pathway toward his room as if he were running for a prize. The expression in the man's eyes was soft and there was also a suspicious moisture in them as well as he watched his boy. Was it only a dream or reality? Only a few short years ago and he had been an eager-hearted boy speeding over the same pathway (he smiled as he thought how the ”speed”
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