Inside the Station Master's room Bobbie still held the stranger's hand and stroked his sleeve.
"Here's a go," said the Station Master; "no ticket—doesn't even know where he wants to go. I'm not sure now but what I ought to send for the police."
"Oh, don't!" all the children pleaded at once. And suddenly Bobbie got between the others and the stranger, for she had seen that he was crying.
By a most unusual piece of good fortune she had a handkerchief in her pocket. By a still more uncommon accident the handkerchief was moderately clean. Standing in front of the stranger, she got out the handkerchief and passed it to him so that the others did not see.
"Wait till Mother comes," Phyllis was saying; "she does speak French beautifully. You'd just love to hear her."
"I'm sure he hasn't done anything like you're sent to prison for," said Peter.
"Looks like without visible means to me," said the Station Master. "Well, I don't mind giving him the benefit of the doubt till your Mamma comes. I should like to know what nation's got the credit of him, that I should."
Then Peter had an idea. He pulled an envelope
