showed none of that happy eagerness to meet their father which the average American child shows to meet a dutiful and obedient parent. This did not escape Thorndyke, and amazed him. He had the usual bachelor's fear and dread of children, but two days and nights of travel with little Roger and Elizabeth Crane had placed him upon terms of perfect intimacy with them. Roger had climbed all over him, and Thorndyke, instead of resenting it, had been secretly pleased at it. He had wrung permission from Annette to take the boy into the smoking-car with him occasionally, and Roger emerged with many mannish airs for his eight years. Thorndyke's berth was at the other end of the sleeper from Annette's and her children, and on the second night, when Thorndyke turned in, he found the youngster had eluded his mother's vigilant eye, and had crawled into Thorndyke's berth for a talk about Indians. Thorndyke not only submitted to this, but permitted Roger to send word to his mother by the porter that he would sleep in Mr. Thorndyke's berth, because Mr. Thorndyke had asked him—and the two of them managed to defy Annette in the matter. Little Elizabeth took an extreme
