the fourth section of the 20th Century train, Elkhart, Indiana.
Ben jerked up and reddened before the message. He knew the girl who signed it. That was, if Lida was Lida Haige of Miss Willett's School. Probably she was, for Lida was not a usual name, and it was unlikely to be repeated even among Jay's surprising acquaintance.
Ben did not hold against Jay either the number or the intimacy of this acquaintance. Ben, plain enough himself, yet had sufficient personal experience with girls in this age of unblushing pursuit of man by woman to appreciate Jay's extraordinary position.
Ben replaced the message in the envelope and returned to Jay's berth, where again he looked in.
Jay had fallen asleep with the serenity in which he always dreamed. What went on in his dream world, he never knew when he awoke. Ben often had asked him; for so evidently it was pleasant. Nearly always Jay smiled when touched; and he did so now.
"Hello," he said, smiling up at Ben.
"Hello," said Ben. "You lazy hat, we're past Elkhart. Telegram came on for you."
"Oh, yes," said Jay. "Heard it. Was awake then."
"Why didn't you ask for it?" asked Ben, blaming him.
"Plenty of time. I guess it's just a welcome to our city from father."
"That's what I figured," said Ben, grateful for this help. "So I took it; told the man I was you. Then I read it for you," he added, defending himself with another offensive. "The devil of a thing to have sent you aboard a train. I've read it."
