hy. "Or are you just down
to see the cars go by?"

"What time does the Chicago train go through?" asked Harvey.

"Any particular one?"

"No; I'm not particular."

"There's one at eleven-forty."

"I'm much obliged."

He was panic-stricken when the train at last appeared and gave
unmistakable signs of stopping at Tarrytown. Moved by an inexplicable
impulse, he darted behind a pile of trunks. His dearest hope had been
that Phoebe might be on the lookout for him as the cars whizzed
through, and that she would waft a final kiss to him. But it was going
to stop! He hadn't counted on that. It was most embarrassing.

From his hiding place he watched the long line of sleepers roll by,
slower and slower, until with a wheeze they came to a full stop. His
eager eyes took in every window that passed. There was no sign of
Phoebe. Somewhat emboldened, he ventured forth from shelter and
strolled along the platform for a more deliberate scrutiny of the
windows.

The feeling of disappointment was intense. He had never known
loneliness so great as this which came to him now. The droop to his
shoulders became a little more pronounced as he turned dejectedly to
re-enter the waiting-room. The train began to move out as he neared
the corner of the building. The last coach crept by. He watched it
dully.

A shrill cry caught his ear. His eyes, suddenly alert, focussed
themselves on the observation platform of the private car as it picked
up speed and began the diminishing process. Braced against the garish
brass bars that enclosed the little platform was Phoebe, in her white
fur coat and hood, her mittened fingers clutching the rail, above
which her rosy face appeared as the result of eager tiptoeing. The
excellent Rachel stood behind the child, cold and unsmiling.

"Hello, daddy!" screamed Phoebe, managing to toss him a kiss, just as
he had hoped and expected.

The response cracked in his throat. It was a miserable croak that he
sent back, but he blew her a dozen kisses.

"Good-bye, daddy!" came the shrill adieu, barely audible above the
clatter of the receding train.

He stood quite still until the last coach vanished up the track. The
tears on his cheeks were frozen.

Some one was speaking to him.

"Ain't you going West with 'em, Mr.--, Mr.--?" queried the baggage
master.

Harvey gazed at him dumbly for a moment or two. Then he lifted his
chin.

"I--I've got to wait over a few days to see to the packing and storing